Carnival
by jibber59
Summary: A travelling road show arrives in Four Corners bringing a welcome diversion, and some unwanted trouble. Set in the early days of the series. Rating for language and violence.
1. Chapter 1

JD watched over Mary's shoulder as she posted a notice outside the newspaper office door. She turned and jumped slightly when she saw him there.

"Sorry Mrs. Travis. Didn't mean to startle you."

"Quite alright Mr. Dunne. I was just focused on this and not paying attention. You are getting to be almost as good at sneaking up on someone as Mr. Larabee is."

He barely heard the words, captivated instead on the poster she had posted. "There's gonna be a carnival?"

She smiled at the youthful exuberance that still came through in the youngest member of the team that protected their town. It was apparent that even the experiences in the three months or so they had been doing that job hadn't yet taken the spirited enthusiasm from him. His reaction was almost identical to her own, **much** younger, son.

"I wouldn't get too terribly excited Mr. Dunne. I doubt it will be on a par with anything you might be familiar with from your childhood back east. Little more than a few games of chance and some wares for sale."

Not taking his eyes from the poster, he replied. "Oh, I never really went to the ones at home. Ma didn't - we didn't have the money to spare on something like that. Did sneak into one when I was just a few years older than Billy is now. It was shut down for the night, but even just seeing the posters and such was something." He grinned. "This might be a small show, but it says they have games and a side show, so I'm betting it'll be a lot of fun!"

Mary found it easy to forget how difficult a life the young man had had. His eternal optimism belied the hardship and poverty he'd experienced as the son of a young widow who worked hard to put food on the table. She hoped she was doing as fine a job raising her son as Mrs. Dunne had. She was about to say that when he turned with a broad smile, and she realized this might not be the moment to remind him of his still fresh loss.

"Yes, no doubt. The manager sent me a telegram asking it be put in the newspaper, but since this week's paper is set, I had to decline. We agreed posters around town would be the next best thing."

"Better maybe, since folks passing through or who don't read the paper regular will hear about it that way too."

"Hear about what?" They both startled at Chris's words. JD turned to Mary. "You're right. He does sneak up on a body." Looking back at the leader, and the fact he wasn't laughing, sobered JD. "Uh, there's a carnival coming to town. On Friday afternoon and Saturday. I was just saying to Mrs. Travis that is sounds like fun."

"Sounds like trouble. Those folks can't be trusted."

"Just because they chose not to call one place home doesn't mean they are deceitful. I can think of a group of men who until very recently didn't call one spot home, and they seem to be decent enough folk. Most of the time."

He favoured her with a toned-down version of his standard stare. "Difference between drifting and grifting. These folks run scams and do whatever is needed to con good people out of their money."

"Mr. Larabee, do I hear you slandering my name?"

Mary chuckled to herself at the small crowd that was gathering from a simple poster being placed on the wall as Ezra and Nathan drew near. Perhaps this was a for more effective means of communicating the news than trying to publish a weekly paper.

"Morning Ezra. No, not this time." He pointed at the poster. "But it could be friends of yours are coming into town."

"I would hazard the comment that it is offensive for you to make the assumption that I am familiar with every charlatan, miscreant, swindler or ne'er-do-well in the county."

"More like in the territory Ezra." Nathan corrected with a broad grin. "At least."

Ezra offered a wry smile as his own response, hiding the reaction he would have preferred to be able to offer. They weren't wrong. There was a much better than even chance he knew whoever it might be coming into town. He could make that claim without even looking beyond the word Carnival on the notice. As soon as that had leapt at him from the page, his mind began filtering through the likely parties involved, and ranking them in terms of how much damage and destruction they would leave in their wake, both for him and Four Corners. He also started calculating the odds that he would find himself forced to leave town with them, depending of course on just how much damage they could do to his still deservedly fragile reputation. That idea bothered him more than it should.

He sighed dramatically, resignation evident, before asking the next question. "Is it possible, Mrs. Travis, for me to bother you for the name of the individual who has approached you regarding publicity for this venture?"

"Of course Mr. Standish. I got the telegram," she favoured Chris with a glance, "and a money transfer for full payment, from a Mr. Oliver Sikes."

Ezra groaned to himself, keeping his countenance neutral. If the reprobate in charge of this travelling bad of marauders was hiding behind the anonymity of Charles Dickens aliases, it had to be Walter Dickens, no relation, despite his claims, to the famed author. On the positive side, while the man was a cheater and fast talker of the highest order he was fundamentally harmless when it came to any sort of aggression or overt acts. On the downside, he knew Ezra. Knew him far too well. The risk of uncomfortable confrontation and disclosure was considerably higher than the gambler felt comfortable with.

"Well?"

"Yes Mr. Larabee, I am, I believe, passingly familiar with the name, though at this moment, any specific details elude me. I shall have to ruminate on the moniker and determine why it is triggering a response, however faint."

Nathan rolled his eyes. "In other words, you need to figure out if this guy is trouble for you."

"And if you are trying to figure it out that means he is." Chris added, a hint of anger in his voice.

"I am trying to determine if he is trouble for the town, as was requested of me. I shall do so in the solitude of my patrol. Gentlemen." He smiled as the turned to Mary and added, "Madam, a pleasure as always."

She watched him walk away then turned angrily on the others. "You ask him for his help, then berate him when he is able to offer it to you. No small wonder the rest of the town won't trust him when the men he works with treat him that way." She stormed back indoors before anyone could respond.

JD looked after her in mild shock. "What did I do?"

"Nothing JD. None of us did. You gotta learn that understanding women is a lifelong pursuit of a goal you will never achieve."

Nathan looked to Chris. "Now that sounds like something Ezra would have said."

Chris grinned slightly. "Come to think of it, he did."

7-7-7-7-7-7-7

Ezra rode the fence line on the Gordon property as he mulled over his options. There really wasn't a lot to be considering. He could try to come up with an excuse for being out of town for the next few days, but that would raise too much curiosity from the others, knowing the move was inspired by the arrival of the carnival. Staying away from the activity was a possibility, but not a practical one. In the first place, Chris would undoubtedly assign him duty there, especially knowing how awkward things could get. There seemed to be a perverse pleasure that Chris took in putting Ezra into the thick of situations like that.

Leaving town was shaping up to be the ideal choice. He had earned his pardon from Judge Travis, so that matter was clear. And Four Corners was proving to be anything but lucrative for his more mercenary instincts. The money to be made at the card table was slim pickings most of the time, save for the occasional stage coach traveller in town for an overnight stay. The cowhands and more casual transients rarely had sufficient funds to make the game worth the effort, other than serving to keep his skills tuned. Even his fellow lawmen (and wasn't that a phrase he never would expected to hear himself say) had become reluctant to play with him, learning quickly his skills far outmatched theirs. It didn't help that there was still a suspicion he was cheating, not that any had been able to figure out how. Nor would they, since for him to do so was both foolish and unnecessary.

He was caught off guard as he contemplated how much the idea of moving on was proving to be unsettling. His head knew it made sense, but there as a feeling of melancholy which was totally unfamiliar to him as he began planning out his departure. The simple realization he would go back to town and give them notice was the first inkling he had that things had changed. True, there were items in his room he would wish to retrieve, but he could do that without having to encounter the others. So, why had he already begun drafting his goodbyes to each of them? That was farcical. No, all he needed to do was get in, get his things, and slip out. He could leave the payment outstanding for his room on the dresser, along with a payment to Mrs. Potter to clear his debt there.

He pulled up on Chaucer's reins. Leave payments? He was skipping town. Why on earth did the idea of leaving any payment pop into his head? "Chaucer, I am being to fear for my sanity." Chaucer ignored the comment, and Ezra gently prodded him forward. Well, Mrs. Potter had been through a great deal in the last few months, and he supposed he could spare what was owed to her. He had allowed for it in his expense plan when he expected to be staying on. And she had been one of the first people in town to treat him as something better that scrapings from the bottom of a boot. He would miss the shy smiles her children offered any time he came into the store.

He reined to a stop again. "Oh my heavens. I am thinking about who I shall miss? Ezra Standish, you're getting soft, and after such a short period of time."

Chaucer started his gentle trot without needing the encouragement. He knew there was water and sweet-grass ahead and was tired of the delays. Unbidden, Ezra's mind wandered to the other farewells he would be making.

Mr. Jackson would assuredly not miss him. Their relationship had been, to say the least, strained from the first meeting. Ezra knew the blame for that lay solely at his feet, although he was willing to rationalize that history and tradition were key factors. The fact that the young former slave ignored that history and tended to Ezra's injuries with the same attention as he did any other man's was a detail he chose not to dwell on. Outside of that scope, it was clear to see Mr. Jackson had little if any trust in the southerner, taking a much higher moral road than Ezra could ever even hope to see, let alone follow.

Likewise, Mr. Larabee would undoubtedly be relieved to see him ride out for the last time. While there was a unique skill set he provided to the team, Ezra knew he had irreparably damaged his standing the moment he left his guard duty to search for gold three months earlier. It had come terrifyingly close to costing the men their lives, and Ezra doubted any of them would ever forget, let alone forgive, that act. Larabee certainly wouldn't. Every assignment since then had been coloured by that deed, and a trust broken that badly could not heal. He doubted he'd get so much as a "take care of yourself" when he bid the man farewell.

It would no doubt concern the preacher when Ezra left town. Just a little. He couldn't get past the idea that Josiah Sanchez had designs on reforming him. Saving him. Why, he couldn't imagine. Certainly no one else had ever been the least bit interested in the assignment. There was far too little material to work with. The idea that this gentle giant of a man, with his own demons to deal with, would take any interest in the spiritual wellbeing of a gambler was laughable, which was why Ezra was at a loss to determine why he didn't find it amusing. He could foresee a look of disappointment, although not surprise, when he said goodbye to the big man.

He had no doubt it would have been entertaining to watch Mr. Dunne mature in the west. The overly-eager puppy dog like youngster was already showing signs of turning into a disturbingly upright and moral citizen, leaving Ezra puzzled as to why he was developing a fondness for him. It concerned him that the boy, and it was hard to not put that label on him, would be too careless and not have that chance to become the man he was destined to become. Of course, he did seem to have found a guardian determined to insure unfortunate happenstance did not come to pass. If anyone could protect the lad from himself, it would be Mr. Wilmington. Why Buck would take that on wasn't hard to understand. For all his bravado and bluster, he was little more than a big kid himself, and the duo seemed to be an ideal fit. It was a friendship Ezra envied - yet another emotion he didn't know he possessed. They would both express a regret that he was leaving, and within a day or two would likely have forgotten he'd ever been there.

That left only Mr. Tanner. Vin. He was the only one of the team Ezra felt even moderately comfortable referring to by his given name, not that he would do so publicly. There was a bit of a kindred spirit he felt with the tracker. Perhaps it was their solitary nature, the loner in each of them. Perhaps the peripherally similar upbringing - Vin having lost his mother when he was young, and Ezra never having made too strong a connection with his own. Perhaps it was simply that Vin seemed to be less apt to judge him, to label him. More willing to just accept him into the fold and move on with life. This was the one farewell he didn't want to have to make, because he knew it would be the most difficult.

Ezra came back the present when he noted Chaucer had stopped his advance. He was grazing peacefully, satisfied to simply enjoy some time in the sun. "It is fortunate no one had ill intentions toward me, the way my attention wandered. Are you ready to seek new territories my friend? Leave Four Corners for the next venue?" He didn't expect a response, so was a bit taken aback when Chaucer shook his head. "You think there is an alternate solution?" When Chaucer nodded, Ezra came to the conclusion he had been in the sun too long. Yes, Chaucer was decidedly more intelligent than any horse he had ever seen, let alone have the good fortune to own, but the notion he would be consulting on his future with the animal was unnerving. Still, there was something to be said for basic animal instinct, was there not.

"So, you perceive a viable option? Well, if you can see it, I certainly should be able to. Clearly the issue is worthy of further ruminations on the way home."

M7-M7-M7-M7-M7-M7-M7

 ** _tbc_**


	2. Chapter 2

After a start to the day that was far earlier than any he would normally voluntarily consider, Ezra rode the short distance out of town to the site of carnival. The wagons would be arriving at some point today, and based on experience, he fully expected Dickens to be arriving ahead to view the site before heading into town to start drumming up business. If he could make this work, apply his plan and convince Dickens to acquiesce, then he might just be able to stick around Four Corners a while longer. He would worry later about why that was important to him.

"What an unexpected pleasure to see you here Mr. - I believe the current name is Sikes." Ezra watched with a broad smile as the huckster reacted to the recognizable voice. He could almost hear the wheels grinding in the man's head. Watching him turn slowly, Ezra toned down his smile to be nothing more than warm and welcoming. "Imagine my delight at the discovery that you and your companions would be favouring our small community with the appearance of your troupe."

"Have I had the pleasure of making your acquaintance…?"

Chaucer stood still as Ezra dismounted. "Please, spare us both the pretense Walter - I'm sorry - Oliver. Oliver Sikes? Really you should be more creative. Even in these back-water communities, the fascinating tales spun by Charles Dickens have been both heard of and read. You need to become a tad more creative if you have any hope of continuing to flourish in your operations."

There was a noticeable relaxation, although Dickens was still on his guard. "Haven't had any troubles so far. And I would appreciate it if you did your best to keep it that way - stick to Sikes. And what should I be calling you these days?"

"Ezra Standish - of course."

"So it's true? You've gone legit? Damn Standish, that is an appalling waste of a God-given talent."

"Please. You sound like mother. And it is rather foolish on your part to associate my choice of name with my reputation or planned actions. I would have assumed you knew better."

The itinerant showman finally let his guard down. "So it **is** an act. Figured as much. Don't worry, I won't step on your game. You just leave me to my plan, and I'll…"

"Now, did I say that? I am here, in advance of Mr. Larabee's arrival, to prepare you on a few details. You will be allowed to set up this operation, and I will refrain from notifying my companions as to how devious and conniving and disreputable you are. But there will be conditions."

"Come on, be reasonable Stand-"

"First, you will not be selling any of your snake oil cures. We have a very reputable healer working for us who relies on the trust people put into his healing lotions and brews, vile though they may be. Your concoctions, when they inevitably disappoint, will serve only to cast doubt on his blends and I will not allow that to happen."

Dickens failed miserably at keeping the whine out of his voice. "Be realistic Ezra, that's a good quarter of my income!"

"In the second place, your gambling wheel is broken, and sadly, you will not be able to offer that diversion. If you wish to engage in legitimate games of skill and chance, and please note the use of the word legitimate, there will be no interference. But any of your rigged apparatuses are off limits. And, on the subject of limits, there will be some in place at your tables. There will be no cleaning out of the marks. They may, or likely will, lose some money, but no one will be losing the next mortgage payment - is that understood?"

"You must have one heck of a scam in the works to be protecting your territory like this."

"The depth of the fraud I am perpetrating goes far beyond your ability to comprehend, I assure you. Now, are the conditions understood?"

"If I don't go along with this?"

Ezra's smile had no humour and an uncommon amount of menace to it. "Then Mr. Larabee will be pleased to know I have recalled from whence I know your name and which counties would be interested in tracing your whereabouts. How many of your fellow travellers will I recognize I wonder?"

Dickens grinned back. "This Larabee fella might want to hear a few things about you as well."

"Rest assured, I have no doubt he has researched my background, and will at some point see fit to apply that information to his cause. But for the moment, I am useful to him and this town, and therefore have a degree of clemency. You have no such saving grace and will not be offered any latitude."

There was a moment of silence as Dickens quickly came to the conclusion he had no real options in the matter. "You're killing me Standish - you know that?"

The implied concession sent a wave of relief through him. "You didn't answer my question about your companions."

"Doubt you know most of them. A few sideshow freaks that are getting a bit rough around the edges for the fancier shows, but don't mind the travelling here. There's only six of us as regular carnival."

Which meant there were others who Dickens didn't want to identify. Others who were going to be trouble. "Who is your muscle?"

"We don't need - fine. David Coulson."

Damn. "Why in the name of all that you hold dear would you associate yourself with him and his cronies?"

A tired shrug preceded the answer. "He ain't as bad as he used to be. Got hurt in a job he pulled and lost a couple of his men. Now it's just him, his boy and one other - a fella named Arthur. They keep us clear from trouble, and don't usually cause much of their own."

"That 'boy' would be an adult now, and more than likely every bit as dishonourable and abhorrent as the father. Is Arthur the given or surname for this other man?"

"Don't know. Never asked. I can tell you this - he is one ornery mean son of a bitch. Will admit to you I don't much like having him around."

"Charming. But he could not be more unpleasant that Coulson."

"Wanna bet? He's creepy. He'd the kind of guy who likes seeing things hurt. Frankly, can't wait for them to move on."

Ezra didn't like the connotations of that statement. "But you are afraid to ask them to. Just see to it that they stay clear of town. We have an eager young lawman in our midst who spends his spare time memorizing wanted posters. If any of these men are on one, Mr. Dunne will recognize them. It would be in everyone's interest to avoid that situation. And, as he fully intends to attend your extravaganza, you would be best to keep them behind the scenes as much as is possible.

Dickens was wishing he'd never heard of Four Corners and shared that thought aloud.

"Nonsense. You will still be able to make enough money from your ventures here without cleaning out the town. Consider it a small lull in the action." He turned to leave, then spun back. "One more thing. The children."

"What about them?"

"No child shall end the day in tears. I don't expect you to give away the house, but if a child is permitted by their parent to take on one of your gallery of games, he or she shall go home with a prize. I don't care if it is a penny whistle or a new doll, but there will be a toy distributed."

That was the last straw. "Ok, fine. But that is going to come out of your cut, Standish. You've cut my profits enough without having to give you your share AND hand out toys."

Ezra was glad he had turned away. Otherwise Dickens would have seen the shock that passed over his face. His cut! In all of this, he had never considered his cut. His payment for protecting the Carnival from closure. Damn, he was off his game. Must be the result of not enough hands-on action. He would have to guard against such a lapse reoccurring.

"Very well, since you are being co-operative, I shall pass on the 25% and settle for 20."

"Are you loco? With what you've cut out? No way. 8%."

"Ludicrous and insulting. Allowing for the children, I shall drop to 18."

"10."

"15 - and no penny toys. Something more substantial."

"12 and substantial."

Ezra took in a slow breath before pasting on his standard grin and turning to face Dickens - no, Sikes - ready to shake on the agreement. "Agreed. I shall collect on Saturday night."

"You gonna be out here while we are operating?"

The steely eyed stare was back. "Oh, most assuredly. I fully intend to satisfy for myself that you are operating within the guidelines I have prescribed."

7-7-7-7-7-7-7

The town felt different somehow. A sense of anticipation had been in the air all day over the treat that awaited them had most of the town anxious. Noticeably absent as the evening approached was the sound of children. Like a Christmas Eve, they had all promised to behave and go to bed early in return for the chance to partake in the fair. Parents leapt at the chance for a bit of extra peace and quiet, hoping for a repeat the following day courtesy of exhaustion.

Even the saloon seemed quieter than usual. Five of the men circled around a table, with Nathan off taking care of healing and Buck taking care of other matters.

"Buck is gonna be too wore out to have any fun tomorrow." JD was complaining.

"Don't let it worry you kid. He's having his fun tonight."

"How did it look out there Chris? You rode out today. What's there?"

Chris could almost hear Adam's voice in JD's words. "Not much when I was there. They just started setting up, but it was early."

Josiah heard the concern in the response. "Something has you troubled."

Chris leaned back from the table, trying once again to determine for himself what had seemed off about the meeting he'd had with Sikes. "Can't say Josiah, but I can tell you it didn't sit right."

"You found this Mr. Sikes to be less that co-operative or reassuring?" Ezra didn't want to think that his efforts had been in vain.

"More the opposite of that. He was too co-operative. Promising me there wasn't anything to worry about is one thing, but he was telling me about poker limits and missing games of chance before I could even ask. And told me he was out of his 'medical marvel potion', so wouldn't be selling that."

"Folks are gonna be disappointed." JD observed. "From what I hear, the stuff they sell at these things is a big part of the reason folks go."

"Oh, he still has a lot of stuff to sell, just none of them snake oil potions. He seemed to know what I was gonna ask before I did."

"You can't think you're the first lawman he's talked to Chris. The guy just has his game plan ready." Vin had seen his share of these shows over the years and had a good idea what to expect. "And since our reputation is becoming known in the area, maybe he was figuring on this."

"Allow me to fully comprehend the issue Mr. Larabee. You did not trust him prior to going out, as you anticipated gambling, chicanery and assorted frauds. Now, with the reassurance that is not the case, you still do not trust him."

"Yup."

"You are a difficult man to satisfy."

"Yup." He looked over to their resident con artist. "You sure the name doesn't ring any bells for you?"

There was the briefest hesitation, even though Ezra had been expecting the question. "The name seems contrived to me, if I am being totally honest with you. Therefore, I am reluctant to state categorically that I am unfamiliar with this gentleman. Perhaps when I am at the carnival, I shall be able to confirm or deny your concerns."

"What makes you think you are going out there?"

"Please sir, do not insult me. You need someone on the site who can determine if there are matters of concern to address. While each of you possess undeniable skills and gifts when it comes to marksmanship, tracking and other areas of law enforcement, I think we can all agree that in matters of duplicity, trickery, swindles, and pure hokum, none of you come close to approaching my degree of expertise."

"Can't say that I have ever heard anyone be so proud of being so crooked." Nathan approached the table, smiling as he spoke. He didn't see the flash of hurt in Ezra's eyes, but Vin did.

"He didn't say he was crooked Nathan, just that he knew how to spot someone who was. That's a damned valuable skill to have, and one we should be grateful for."

"Please Mr. Tanner, don't waste your breath. Mr. Jackson was merely expressing what most of you accept as fact. For the simple reason it is a valid conclusion. Now, if you will all excuse me, I am going to make an early night of things so that I may be up at the ungodly hour Mr. Larabee no doubt expects." He left the table quickly, ignoring the stares he knew he was getting.

Nathan felt Vin's attention still on him and answered the unspoken allegation. "I didn't mean nothing by it."

"You don't trust him." It was an accusation rather than a statement.

"Don't really see too many reasons I should."

"Do you see any reason you shouldn't? Can't say that I recall seeing him cheat you or do anything close."

"I don't have to get bit by a rattler to know the snake is dangerous Vin. Just need to know the breed."

"Would that breed be all white men, or just ones from the south?"

Nathan's eyes went cold. "Watch what you say Tanner. You're speaking out of turn."

"Well now that's the first time you directed any of that anger at me. Maybe my accent doesn't remind you of those days quite so bad."

Chris wasn't in the mood for this. "Knock it off, both of you."

Nathan ignored him. "You've never given me a reason to doubt you. He has."

"You ever gonna let him prove otherwise?"

There was silence at the table. "Don't know that he can." Nathan finally said. "Don't know if I can let him for that matter."

Before things could start up again, Chris took control of the conversation back, steering it to safer territory. "OK, for tomorrow-"

"Uh, Chris - I kinda promised Casey I'd take her to the carnival." JD offered shyly. "Guess I should have checked with you first."

The temptation to tease him was strong, but there was such a pleading look on his face Chris couldn't bring himself to do it. "Nah kid. Figured you'd be doing that. And Standish was right, it only makes sense for him to be out there. I've already let Buck know he'll go as well. And since the real trouble is likely on Friday night with the gambling, think a couple more of us should be there."

"When are you going?"

Chris mumbled a response.

"Sorry brother, could you say that again?" Josiah was fairly certain he had heard but needed to be sure.

"Officially, Saturday. But I'll be there tomorrow too."

JD looked at him is shock. "Never would have guessed you for the carnival type Chris."

Realizing mumbling again would only mean he'd have to repeat himself, Chris spoke up. "Told Mary and Billy I would take them out there. Anybody want to say anything about that?"

They all shook their heads, grateful Buck wasn't there to aggravate the situation.

M7-M7-M7-M7-M7-M7-M7

 ** _tbc_**


	3. Chapter 3

"I'm sorry baby, but I told you before we came out here, you are going to have to settle for just looking at all the pretty things." Ezra watched from a few feet away as Mrs. Everly spoke quietly to her daughter. The young girl hadn't taken her eyes of the small cloth doll that hung tantalisingly low from the vendor's wagon, just at the right height to entice a 6-year-old girl. It was clear it broke the woman's heart to disappoint the child, but there was simply no choice in the matter. Money was tight, far too tight, to indulge on something so frivolous. Mr. Everly had been gone for weeks now, working on a ranch several days ride away in order to earn enough to get the family the money they were going to need to get his own farm up and running. In the meantime, his wife took in laundry and did some sewing to help keep food on the table, barely. Ezra had given her a few small jobs and had been impressed by her skills. He had also been thoroughly charmed by the lovely Miss Molly as she hid behind her mother's skirt when he had dropped off the items. The shy grin cut through his defences like a hot knife through butter.

The little girl's lip trembled as she fought back the tears, clinging tightly to the skirt again. Mrs. Everly bent down and scooped her up, allowing the child to cry softly on her shoulder. The action resulted in the purse the woman held tightly to slipping from her grasp. She squatted to collect it, and the few possessions in it as quickly as she could, wanting nothing more than to go home and forget this day had happened.

"Excuse me Mrs. Everly, but I believe you missed an item," Ezra bent down and 'retrieved' a coin from the dirt. "It really wouldn't do to leave a dollar coin lying on the ground."

"Oh, Mr. Standish. I didn't see you there. No sir, that coin is not mine."

"On the contrary madam. I saw the item fall from your bag and roll in my direction." He was gentle but firm in his tone.

"And I can assure you, there was no such coin in my bag."

"Well then, I can only conclude that it belongs to the lovely Miss Molly. Did you perhaps drop this my dear?" The child shook her head, burying her face deeper in the crook of her mother's neck.

Ezra lowered his voice to a level that implied a desperate confidence was being sought. "Please Mrs. Everly. With my reputation, I know I shall be accused of stealing this coin from you or your child, and I simply cannot tolerate any further slurs on my name. You will either have to call me a liar or accept that this simply fell from the lining of your bag. I am sure you can find a good use for the coin." His eyes darted to the small doll and back again, a trace of a smile forming.

"Mr. Standish. I would never dare to call you're a liar. A gentleman, a man of honour and compassion, yes. Never a liar. I thank you for - finding - the item for me." Fighting off tears that she knew would only embarrass him, she took the coin and turned back to the vendor. "Is this enough to buy that doll Mr. Sikes?" Ezra glared over her shoulder at him.

Cursing to himself he smiled at her. "More than enough madam. Let me get you your change." When Mrs. Everly turned to thank him again, Ezra was walking away.

7-7-7-7-7-7-7

"You here to try to make me cut my prices again Standish? I'm gonna end up paying people to buy things at this rate."

Ezra took Sikes by the arm and quickly guided him off to the side of his sales area, away from the flow of fairgoers. He wasn't pleased to see Arthur seated there but it didn't stop him from speaking. "Lower your voice Sikes." Ezra hissed his response. "And stop being so melodramatic. You forget I am fully aware of how much you pay for these trinkets and baubles. More importantly, I know what they are worth. Be grateful Mr. Larabee and his associates have not taken the initiative to perform a closer inspection, or you would be shut down with little ceremony and even less consideration."

Sikes pulled himself free and took a few steps back. He was desperately wishing at this point he had the ability to turn back the clock a few days. He would have elected to bypass this town, as he had planned to do in the first place. Why he'd let Coulson convince him there was money to be made here was a mystery to him, but the thug had been insistent, and arguing was a hazard he didn't think was worth the risk.

"Speaking of Larabee's crew, why didn't you tell me one of them was a darkie? Wasn't expecting to have to deal with that out here."

Ezra should have expected the comment. Dickens – damn – Sikes was cut from the same cloth he was, with even deeper southern roots. He was one of those who still fought the war in his own way. That was part of the reason it didn't surprise him that the Coulson's were part of the scene now.

"I saw no need to prepare you for Mr. Jackson. His presence in this area comes as no surprise to anyone."

Arthur took a step closer, deciding to add his unwanted opinion to the discussion. "Well is was sure as hell a surprise to me. Don't need no nig-"

"I would strongly advise you to refrain from completing that thought. You shall refer to him as Mr. Jackson in my presence, or at any other time. And I can assure you, he is viewed with far more respect than any of us could have hope to be, justifiably so. You should count yourselves fortunate that he would be available to render assistance to you if needed, and that he would do so regardless of his feeling or opinions on our worth."

"You really ain't the man you used to be, are you Standish." Arthur spat tobacco juice out, just missing Ezra's boot.

"Thank you for noticing." Ezra glared and walked away. He was focused enough on tamping down his anger that he didn't notice Buck concealing himself in the shadows, smiling.

"No Ezra, you really ain't that man. We're gonna have to work on making sure everyone starts to accept that – including you."

Campfires and lanterns lit up the active areas of the grounds. It was well past the time when families were at the carnival and the side show attractions were closed for the day while activities were picking up in the tent reserved for gambling and gaming. Buck stood in the entrance way scanning the room for any indications of trouble. On first glance, he saw nothing. Second scan showed one spot was different from the rest. In the back corner the play was decidedly more intense. The other players in the room were having fun but that feeling didn't seem to reach this spot which was less boisterous than the rest. Buck moved quickly past the other gaming tables, ignoring the small table top version of billiards, the dominos games and a myriad of other activities. He could hear the buzz of trouble starting in the back and wished he had taken a moment to summon one of the others before getting into the middle of this.

He was about to speak when he heard another voice coming from his left. Someone had entered from the rear of the tent. "I believe rules were established concerning the restrictions on table stakes at these games gentlemen. What I see before me clearly surpasses what has been prescribed."

"Stay out of this Standish – ain't your concern."

"On the contrary Mr. Coulson, it is very much my concern. This event will continue only as long as the actions are sanctioned by the men who enforce the law for this town and its surroundings. I can assure you, the wrath of Mr. Larabee is an experience you would not voluntarily subject yourself to. Now, fold the hand, retrieve your stakes and depart for the evening before things become vastly more unpleasant than you might expect."

"You think you can take us out Standish?" Coulson growled at him. He was done with Ezra's interference. He had lost count of the number of times he had made a move to pick a pocket or deal from the bottom of the deck during a game, only to glance up and see the man standing and watching him. At one point, he knew he had seen Ezra head in the opposite direction, only to approach him from behind mere seconds later, laying a heavy hand on his wrist as he reached for a tempting wallet belonging to a lucky winner from the gaming tables. Now, as the more relaxed part to the day had given way to the evening's activities, he was even less willing to go along with the rules.

"I have no doubt I can, and would, render you and your son incapable of further actions without even raising causing even a modicum of discomfort to my person. However, as Mr. Wilmington stands at your back, prepared to take whatever actions are necessary, I am certain I will not need to offer any further incentive to you. You have one more chance to do as I suggested, before the entire pot is confiscated to be used for the betterment of the community of Four Corners. I do believe Mr. Sanchez mentioned something about additional pews for the church, did he not Mr. Wilmington?"

"Either that or some of them fancy windows. Sure we can find a good use for it Ezra." Coulson spun in his seat when Buck spoke. Reluctantly, he laid the cards on the table and indicated to his son to do the same. They retrieved their share, watched closely by all of the others at the table, and turned to leave quietly, giving Ezra a glare that would have most men trembling. Ezra had seen much worse. The remaining men at the table looked at each other, collected the cards and started a fresh hand. After watching for a moment, Buck and Ezra headed out.

"You're just lucky looks can't kill there Hoss, else you'd be on the ground by now."

"I have been threatened in more imaginative and intimidating men in my life. Heavens, Mr. Larabee's glare when I am late to patrol surpasses what those men were capable of."

"Sure, go talk that way. Someone might believe you. And what was all of that about rules? I didn't see nothing posted."

"Mr. Larabee made reference to it last night, and I have heard more talk of it during the day – the desire to limit losses and in so doing, limit the likelihood of confrontations such as we just witnessed."

Buck stopped and stared Ezra down for a moment. "Why do I get the feeling you know more than you're sharing?"

"I have no control of what feelings you may have, or what you choose to do about them. If you will excuse me, I doubt Mr. Larabee would take kindly to see me dawdling near the gaming tables. He would certainly not hesitate in assuming I was partaking in the activity while shirking my responsibilities."

Ezra hurried off to forestall any further discussion on the matter. Vin and Josiah made their way to where Buck stood, watching the hasty retreat.

"Our gambler get himself into some difficulty?" Josiah asked, expecting he knew the answer.

"Not so as I can see – least ways not the kind you mean. But there is something strange going on here."

Vin tended to agree. "This is the strangest carnie I've ever been at. No snake oil? That's standard at these things."

"And everybody seems to be having fun. I mean, I guess that's a good thing and all, but it's just –" Buck was at a loss for the right word.

"Unnatural." Josiah finished for him. "It is entirely possible that we are being lulled into a false security to discourage our return, and the tomorrow will bring a different result."

"All the more reason for us all to be here I suppose. I'll mention it to Chris." Buck yawned. "Heading back into town for the night. You two gonna stay?"

"Yeah. Nathan's back home, but JD said he'd come out once he saw Casey home, so you and Ezra might as well head back." Vin looked around for the gambler. "Assuming you can find him."

"Probably headed out when he saw you guys get here."

"Well, this has been a long day for someone like him. And to be this close to temptation without giving in must have plum wore him out."

"He never went near the tables Josiah, other than to stop some trouble. Never did anything but his job. Damn shame nobody seems to appreciate that." Buck stormed away without looking back.

Josiah looked at Vin in confusion. "What was that about?" He got a shrug for his answer.

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 ** _tbc_**


	4. Chapter 4

Buck resented the wake-up visit from Chris. He'd been late getting settled in last night and had no desire for an early start to his day, not that little details like that were of any interest to Larabee. The plans were laid out quietly as the two men sat for breakfast.

"Need at least two men staying in town. Ezra belongs at the carnie - he knows his way around up there. And Nathan should likely be there as well, case he's needed for anything with better than half the town being there."

"OK, but with most folks being gone, what has you so worried about someone being here?" Buck knew his friend well enough to understand there was something else going on.

"There's money in the bank."

Buck wasn't impressed. "There always is Chris. What's the big deal?"

"Lots of money. Shipment of cash headed out to Sacramento. There's gonna be a military escort for it, but not for a few more days, so we've got it stashed. Came in on the train part way from Washington, and then by buggy this far. Travis figured we'd be the best stopping point."

Trying to keep his tone neutral wasn't easy for Buck. "Any reason you didn't bother letting us know?"

Chris looked decidedly unhappy. "Orders. They figure the fewer who know about it, the safer it is."

"And Travis figures one of us is going to steal it? Well that's just-"

"He's under orders to Buck. There was a theft of an earlier shipment and turned out there was an inside source. Don't want that happening again, so if there is anyone they are suspicious about, they want them out of the picture."

Buck stared for a minute before speaking again. "So Travis doesn't trust Ezra. Do you?" Chris didn't answer. "Damnit Chris! If you can't trust him, what is he still doing here? That kinda problem gets people killed." When he got no answer, another thought popped into Buck's mind, and before he even spoke, he was hoping he was wrong.

"When you were at the carnival yesterday, were you really there with Billy and Mary, or were you spying on Ezra?"

"I'm gonna pretend you didn't ask me that."

Even feeling a bit guilty, Buck wasn't ready to let it go. "Never noticed you around there. Like you were trying to keep hidden."

"I was there with a woman and a little boy. You really think I'd put them in any kind of danger. Really Buck?"

Phrased that way, he did feel bad about thinking the worst. "Well, it's not like you to hide away when something big is going on."

Chris acknowledged the truth in that. "I'll admit, I figured staying low the first day might be a smart play, but I wasn't spying on anybody. Just keeping my eyes open in general." The two men looked at each other and without speaking, agreed the matter was settled. That still left the bigger issue.

"Not saying I want it to be true, but that's a lot of money Buck. More than most men would want to walk away from."

"Look, I admit I wouldn't have trusted Standish as far as I could throw him when he got here, but I think that's changed – some. Even so, I don't see the man robbing the bank. Don't fit with his style. 'sides, I don't think he'd do that to us."

"You know he headed out to meet up with the carnie folk before I got out there? Saw him on the trail on the way back. And you said yourself he was acting strange yesterday. That he was watching the folks there, and more important, they were watching him."

There was no denying things had been strange yesterday. Buck had the impression on a couple of occasions that people were looking to Ezra almost as if seeking permission before doing something. But this explanation made no sense. He couldn't see the gambler suddenly becoming the brains behind an elaborate bank robbery. Although God knows, he would be capable of planning it. "That's the real reason you're sending him up there today - to keep him out of town?"

Chris hesitated, not wanting to admit it out loud. That made it so much more real. "He is best suited up there. But yeah, I wanted to see if he'd squawk about it and fight me on it."

"Did he?"

"Never got the chance to ask. He's already gone for the morning. You can't tell me that's normal either."

Buck was unable to answer that, so just moved on. "Who do you want and where do you want them?"

"Vin and JD are going to stay in town. You, Josiah and Nathan are kind of noticeable, so you being up there might help keep things under control. I'll ride up with the rest, but circle back. We should be able to keep an eye on things with that plan. Probably gonna be a quiet day, but I'd rather be ready for it, just in case."

Buck nodded and got up from the table. He'd taken only a few steps before turning back. "Just how is Ezra supposed to have found out about this money?"

"Same way anybody would I guess. Somebody involved somewhere talked about it, either on purpose or without thinking. Anyone with as many connections on the shady side of legal as Standish has been could be involved."

"So could a lot of other folk. Tell me, did you think to ask Ezra why he headed out to the camp?"

"When have you ever known the man to give an honest answer if he didn't want to? Or have to?"

Buck nodded sadly and continued toward the diner, trying to reconcile some of the things he'd seen in the last 24 hours with what he was hearing now.

7-7-7-7-7-7-7

Coulson watched Standish riding toward the carnival grounds, cursing to his companions from the moment he saw the man. "Stuck up bastard used to be one of us - he understood. Now he's so fucking high and mighty - thinks he's better that everybody else."

"Always thought he was better - all them fancy clothes and words. Puttin' on like he's somebody. You know how much he cost us yesterday?" Arthur had the same look of disdain on his face as he spit a wad of tobacco and juice from his mouth.

"Least ways if he's up here he won't mess with our plans pop. That bank is the real reason we're here. Yesterday was penny ante stuff."

Shaking his head, Coulson cursed again, knowing that wasn't the case. "He'll figure we're up to something if we ain't there junior. Won't take him long to go looking for us."

Arthur drew his gun. "One easy way to make sure he can't ask questions."

"Put that damn thing away. You think a shot this early in the morning won't raise questions? Way he's circling, it looks like he's planning on coming up the back. That's perfect. I know just the spot up ahead where we can stop him without anybody knowing. That'll settle our problems."

Ezra rode slowly toward the fair site. He could see smoke coming from a couple of campfires undoubtedly started to get breakfast going for the troupe. He sighed quietly, wishing he had taken the time to have something himself. He wasn't used to being up this early and felt that trying to eat anything at such an ungodly hour would be far more trouble than it was worth. He was now regretting that call. He was certain he could scrounge a few biscuits at the very least if he headed into the site, but unfortunately for his growling stomach, that wasn't the plan. He wanted to watch from a distance for now. Something had seemed off kilter to him last night, and despite reviewing the evening in his mind several times, he hadn't come up with a satisfactory explanation for the sense of impending trouble. As much as he was loathe to awaken with the sunrise, he did just that today and headed out of town to keep an eye on the assorted morning activities. Maybe that way, he could figure out exactly what was going on, and with any luck, stop things before they started. Having to explain to the others why he had his suspicions would only lead to uncomfortable questions about his relationship with Dickens - it was so hard to remember to think of him as Sikes - and the others.

Chaucer's sudden rearing back was the only sign Ezra had of trouble, but it was a few seconds too late for him to be able to avoid the branch that swung out at him. Arthur had been holding it back and let it fly to slam into him. He kept his grip on the reins, but the impact dazed him enough that he was incapable of fighting the hands that pulled him down, slamming him to the ground. Chaucer's move to butt his owner's attacker was thwarted as the reins were grabbed and he was forced away. Ezra lay on the ground, winded and looking up at the silhouetted outline of his attackers.

"Watch his right arm - he's got a gun stashed there." A foot came down heavily on his hand and Ezra fought to control the shout of anguish from pain and nausea from the sound and sensation of bones snapping under the pressure. His wrist was grabbed and a moment later he heard fabric tearing and felt his gun being ripped from the holster. The foot that had mangled his hand landed several swift kicks to his side and ribs, rendering him helpless as he was stripped of the remaining weapons in just seconds.

"This appears to be an extreme retaliation for the simple accomplishment of preventing you from defrauding the public of gaming money last night Coulson." He gasped it out, trying with limited success to keep the severity of his pain from his voice.

"Listen to you. Even knocked flat on your ass and stretched out on the ground you still like to think you are better than us."

"My physical location has nothing to do with the veracity of my claim." Ezra knew goading these men was at best a fool's play, and under the present circumstances might well be suicidal, but his better judgement often fell victim to his pride and vanity. He was going to have to learn to do something about that one of these days, assuming he was given that chance. He started having doubts about that when he felt another kick to the ribs. The sound of cracking echoed through him again.

Chaucer reared back, pulling at his reins trying to break free, nearly dislocating the younger Coulson's shoulder in the process. He pulled his gun in response. "You stupid damned horse!"

"No." Ezra thought he was the one shouting, but his cry was barely a gasp. Arthur had been the one issuing the warning. "Just tie the damn thing up. Your old man was right - we don't want anybody checking out a gunshot." He grinned evilly at Ezra. "Got better ways of teaching this one a lesson about who's in charge now." Despite a desperate effort to pull away as Arthur swung his foot again he was unable to completely avoid the blow aimed squarely at the head. Ezra didn't hear the laughter that followed.

 **M7-M7-M7-M7-M7-M7-M7**

 ** _tbc_**


	5. Chapter 5

Chris walked the grounds for one final time mid-afternoon. It was a sunny, hot day, and that seemed to be keeping the crowd quieter that it had been the day before. He had also been right in his assumption that the second day crowd, would be smaller. These were hard working families with little time or money to spare, so few would be there both days. Most families with young children had been out yesterday to avoid what they assumed would be a more boisterous day. There were some older children (likely there without parental permission, but that wasn't his concern), and some younger adults. The remainder of the patrons were favoring the gaming tent, looking to find something beyond the standard card table games to change their fortunes. Few seemed to be having any kind of luck with that.

What did concern Chris was his inability to find any sign of Ezra. Sikes indicated he hadn't seen him since the night before and swore adamantly he had no knowledge of his whereabouts. Perhaps too adamantly, but maybe that was just his own suspicious nature. Buck, Josiah and Nathan came back with the same response. No one seemed to have the slightest idea where the gambler might be.

"Ezra ain't the only one missing Chris." Buck had walked up quietly behind him. "No sign of the Coulsons or that fella they were with last night either."

"Thought you said Coulson and Standish were at each other. Doesn't sound like men working together."

Buck didn't like the idea, but it was making sense to him. "Unless it was an act."

Scanning the grounds again, Chris could see Sikes watching them from behind his wagon. "Get Josiah. The three of us will head back. I'm gonna have another little talk with Mr. Sikes in the meantime."

7-7-7-7-7-7-7

"Hold on Sikes. Don't make me come after you."

The man in questioned turned back with an obviously insincere smile on his face. "Why Mr. Larabee! How can I be of assistance? Have you located your Mr. Standish?"

"Looking for the Coulsons now."

For a conman, Sikes had no real skill at hiding his reactions. He paled slightly and stammered out a response. "I have no idea. They aren't part of my family here."

"They're your muscle, and a part of the team. And right now, they are missing. So what's going on?"

Sikes kept trying to place distance between himself and the thugs. "I assure you Mr. Larabee, they are not a part of my team. They are, as you said, simply hired hands to make sure there is no trouble. Only been with me a short time. The fact they may have run out is no surprise, given how their role was taken over by you gentlemen yesterday."

"Cut into their profits, did we?"

"I'll say. I mean - I don't know what you are referring to."

"One more chance. Start talking."

With a sigh, he realized there was no point in assuming Larabee was going to let this go. "When limits were set on the tables, they knew they were going to come up dry last night. And having Standish watch their every move didn't help matters."

"What do you mean 'when limits were set'? That wasn't your idea?"

"Hardly. Cut into my take too much. As bad as not being able to sell my Miracle Cure. Really, Standish had no right to make those demands, especially on such a blatantly obvious false motive. As if Ezra Standish would care that some healer's reputation might be affected by my product. Once I got a look at the man, I knew Standish was lying. He'd never cut into his own profit to help out some coloured boy."

This was going to require a lot more explanation that Chris had time for right now. "Where is Ezra?"

"How should I know? Haven't seen him, though I'm sure he'll be here to pick up his cut at the end of the day."

Chris shoved the man back against the side of his wagon. "You stay put. You make a move to leave this spot and we will hunt you down - understood." Sikes silently nodded. "Leaving a man here - not that I don't trust you."

He jogged over to where Josiah and Buck were waiting with Pony in tow and mounted quickly. "Something is wrong. Everything is wrong here. We need to head back now. Nathan will keep an eye on things up here for us." They bolted of at full gallop, taking the fastest route to town and paying no to attention to the fields they rode past.

Gunfire could be heard as they approached town, and the trio fanned out. They had already done this often enough to know exactly what role each man was to take, and quickly took up their positions. Chris spotted Vin and JD both secured in safe points. Chris could see one man lying dead in the street - Coulson based on the clothing. Likely meant at least two were left. He didn't want to think that Ezra might be a fourth man on the robbery but wasn't quite ready to dismiss the possibility yet. He darted in and out behind cover, making his way to Tanner's position.

"Was wondering if you were going to show up for the party." Tanner grinned at him. Just two of them now. They made their move a couple of minutes ago. I think JD managed to wing one of them. Saw him scurrying to the alley beside the bank."

"Josiah is headed there. Should take care of him no trouble." He had barely finished speaking before two more shots were heard. Vin recognized the second as being Josiah's gun.

"That's the boy dead too." Sanchez shouted from his spot.

Chris didn't imagine he had much chance of talking the final man into surrendering. "Give it up Arthur. No need for all three of you to die today."

"If I'm going, I'm taking some more of you with me. Killing Standish was just the start."

Josiah heart all but stopped. He couldn't mean that. It was a trick, a way to throw them off. Clearly the others had the same reaction as there were several seconds of silence, followed by a single shot. The team charged from their spots as Buck ran toward the man he had shot, arriving at his side first and grabbing his shirt, hauling him up. "What the hell to do you mean, killing Standish? Where is he?"

"Too late." Arthur coughed out. "He ain't so high and mighty now. Well, high maybe." He laughed, coughing up blood again. "Last time he looks down on anybody." With that, his head dropped back and his eyes stared into the distance.

"Wake up you son of a bitch! Where is he?"

"Wasting your time Buck. He's dead."

JD's voice quivered slightly. "Did he mean it? Do you think he really killed Ezra?"

Chris ran his hand over his face, fighting to keep his anger reined in. He wasn't sure right now who he was most angry with, but it was a long list, and his own name was high on it. "Sikes. He might know more that he let on." They all ran for their horses. "Hold up. One of us needs to stay here and take care of this."

They were about to object when Bob O'Neill came from his wood-wright shop. "I heard what was going on Mr. Larabee. You go. We can take care of this. I'll get Tiny to lend me a hand." Knowing the bodies would end up with O'Neill for coffins anyway, Chris acknowledge the offer with a tip of his hat as the men mounted and rode out.

No one spoke as they rode, each coming to terms with the claim Arthur had made with his dying breath. Try as they might, none could come up with a reason that man would have lied at that moment. The unsettled feeling was overwhelming. Standish may not have been the kind of man they would have sought out as part of their band, but he had ingratiated himself in ways that were completely unforeseeable. The idea that his roguish charm was going to be absent was harder to accept than any of them would have anticipated.

Vin was leading the way when something caught his eye. He couldn't figure out at first what seemed out of place, but something was. He stopped so suddenly that Chris and Buck passed him and were several lengths away before registering the fact. Josiah pulled up next to him. "What's wrong?"

Vin scanned the area again, then grabbed for his spyglass, focusing on a point in a nearby field. JD followed the line of site. "When did Mr. Everly find time to put up a scarecrow?"

Vin was already spurring Peso to a gallop as he shouted back. "They didn't. God Damn shit eating sons of bitches. That ain't no scarecrow – it's Ezra!"

Realization hit all the men at the same moment and they began to charge down the hill. Josiah shouted ahead to Vin. "Don't touch him till we can check. Damn – Chris, make sure he heard me. It's likely gonna be bad enough without us makin' things worse."

Vin was indeed first to the side of the injured man, dismounting and running toward Ezra, with Chris close behind. "I heard Chris." His voice choked with emotion as he looked up at the unconscious man. At least he hoped Ezra was only unconscious.

As the others reached him, they heard a soft keening cry from the gambler, both reassuring and disturbing them all.

Chris took another step to close the gap. "We gotta get him down slow and easy. He's busted up real bad. Thank God he's just lashed to the frame."

"Huh?" JD didn't understand. He couldn't see anything to be thankful for as he looked up in shock. Buck stood still beside him. "Coulda been nails kid." He said softly, lending a supporting hand as the young man gagged at the idea.

"Buck – get over on his left side, I'll stay on the right. Vin, you take him under the arms."

"Careful around his chest boys." Vin added to Chris's directions. "The way he's straining to breathe, likely got busted ribs. Let's try not to make it worse."

Josiah positioned himself in front of his damaged friend. "You all get him loose, I'll get him settled down." Chris nodded his agreement, then moved into position, trying not to think about what had happened here.

As each man took hold, Ezra cried out, the agony of touch and movement overwhelming him.

"Don't stop. It's gonna hurt him whatever we do – just get it over with." Chris commanded, cursing himself quietly for the pain he was causing.

Ezra could hear the voices but had no clue where they were coming from. Nor did he care. He couldn't lift his head to look, not that he could have seen anything with both eyes swollen shut. He was far to parched to be able to call out for help, even if he'd been able to get the breath he needed to do so. These riders, like the ones he had heard earlier, would ride by, unaware a man was dying so nearby. If he had an ounce of moisture left in him, he would have cried. He dared to allow himself to imagine the voices were getting closer.

There wasn't a spot on his body that didn't ache. No, ache was too mild a term. He could do better, if he put his mind to it. The right term, _le mot juste_ , was his stock in trade. He wasn't going to lower his standards due to something as trivial as his impending death. It simply wouldn't do to meet his maker with a failure as his last act. Well, another failure. If he'd had the energy, he would have laughed at the thought of meeting his maker, and realized it was accurate. He had his doubts on the existence of heaven and hell, but if they existed, he had no doubts as to which location he had come from, and where he would be returning. He imagined he could feel the heat of the flames now, although he was still aware enough of his surroundings to reason that was more likely the sun baking his already burned skin to a blistered state.

Now, where was he before his mind wandered? Ache. Yes, what would describe his predicament more accurately? Throbbing worked for the broken bones and strained muscles. Stabbing certainly applied to the knife cuts and torn skin from the repeated punches. Burning covered most of the rest, and there was simply no word appropriate to the pounding that was going on in his head. Just when he thought the pain, the torture, couldn't possibly get worse, he was proven wrong. Someone touched him, and the simple act set his nerves on fire. Not knowing where the energy to do so came from, he screamed.

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 ** _tbc_**


	6. Chapter 6

"Oh dear God. Ezra I'm sorry. We can't - we have to get you down." Josiah pled with him quietly. "Please don't fight us. I know this is brutal, but please don't fight."

"You think he can hear you?" Buck was trying to help keep Ezra supported while Vin frantically cut at the ropes binding him into place. Every shifting of weight or inadvertent touch triggered another response from the battered man. The screaming was done. There was no strength left for that, but the soft pained whimpers cut each man to his soul. JD was laying blankets down, trying to create as soft a resting place as possible. He looked up when there was another sharp gasp as Ezra fell free from his post. Josiah and Buck kept him from tumbling.

The moment they got him settle on the ground, Chris pushed JD toward the horses. "Get Nathan down here. We're gonna need a wagon to transport him." Chris shouted out the commands without taking his eyes from Ezra's still form. From what Josiah said, the gambler was still alive, but he wasn't willing to bet that situation was going to last much longer. "JD - bring Sikes." He had no idea what role the man had played, but he damn sure was going to find out. And if he'd known about this - any of this, the undertaker was going to have another body to bury.

Josiah settled himself on the ground, letting Ezra lean into him. It seemed impossible to find a way to hold him that didn't put pressure on some injury, but eventually they found a way that appeared to be less tortuous, based on the way he quieted. Josiah continued to speak softly to him, trying to offer reassurances that he scarcely believed himself. That was the only sound for several minutes, as none of the others could bring themselves to speak, lost to their own rage. And guilt. The sound of a horse approaching stirred them from their contemplations. Nathan had dismounted before coming to a complete stop and ran stumbling toward his patient.

He froze for just a second before kneeling next to Ezra. "Good God man, why?" He caught his breath and focused. "I need water and the other pack from my bag. Get me anything that is clean enough to wrap on him. Got to cool him down."

"He's been stabbed too Nathan. His side. Legs are cut some and - ah shit – everywhere." Buck was handing him the canteens.

"Ezra - can you hear me?" There was no response, so he tried again as he began trying to clean some of the dirt to see what he was dealing with. The low moan chilled them all.

"He hasn't spoken." Josiah answered quietly. "He's trembling, and he's moved his lips a few times, but nothing is coming out."

Nathan nodded to show he'd heard, but didn't speak, wrapping the burned skin in cool damp cloths. Ezra hands and forearms were blistering, as was his upper chest and the back of his neck. The rest of him had been covered by clothing, but the heat radiated of him regardless. His face had been spared the burning due to the simple fact he had been unable to hold his head up. That didn't mean there weren't concerns. Both eyes were swollen shut and deeply bruised. Nathan was certain his nose was broken, and likely his jaw and left cheekbone as well. He knew that much damage probably meant there was more, but there was little he could do at this point for a skull fracture or concussion. He offered a quick prayer that the damage to Ezra's brain was not as severe, knowing it might be kinder to let him die if that was the case.

The arrival of the wagon distracted the others, but neither Nathan nor Josiah even looked away. Chris had pulled Sikes out his seat and threw him to the ground before the others even got close.

"Why didn't you say something?" Sikes was terrified. He'd heard the description JD have given Nathan to prepare him and knew these men would likely kill him if Ezra didn't make it. It was all so unfair.

"Didn't know. Didn't know anything about the robbery or any of it. I swear to you."

JD looked at Chris. "I told him what happened. I don't think he knew Chris. Damn near shit his pants when I was telling Nathan about Ezra."

Any further discussion was cut short. "Need you fellas to make as soft a spot as you can back there. We need to get him back home as fast as we can. I got nothing to work with here."

"Brought the hay wagon Nathan. Figured with blankets it would be more comfortable."

"Good thinking JD. OK, Josiah, you need to rest him on the blanket as easy as you can…"

"I'll carry him."

"No. In the first place, you can't stand up holding on to him. He needs to be kept as still as we can. The blanket will work like a sling. Keep the pressure off any one spot. You can climb in and keep him still on the ride, but right now, we all need to get him settled." Josiah offered no further objections, seeing the logic to what was being said. It didn't change the fact his tore at his heart to let go. He didn't know for certain where this sudden need to protect Ezra came from, but he wasn't about to let it go.

There wasn't even a whimper as Ezra was gingerly laid out on the makeshift cushioning and Nathan scampered after him, checking for signs of life. He looked over to Chris with resignation on his face. "Barely breathing and pulse is so damn weak I can hardly feel it. Be a miracle if the ride home doesn't do him in."

"OK, let's get moving. JD, you're gonna have to drive this nice and easy-"

"No, I'm not going back with you."

Chris wasn't in the mood for this. "Really think this is the time to argue with me?"

"Where's Chaucer?" They all paused at JD's question. "Yeah, I don't know either. But Ezra is going to want to know, and I ain't gonna be the one to tell him we didn't look. I'm gonna go find him."

Vin nodded. "Kid's right Chris. I'll help him look. I doubt he's far. I can see the tracks from here how they brought Ezra to - to do this. Probably left Chaucer there, either tied up or - well, hopefully tied up. If they let him loose, he'll show up in town. Otherwise, the two of us can track him."

It didn't feel right not riding in together, but Chris knew JD was right. Ezra would want to know about that damned horse of his as soon as he was able to think straight, and if they didn't have an answer, the idiot would be sure to hurt himself worse trying to do something about it. Before he could voice any of that, there was in interruption.

"Mr. Larabee?" The sound stunned them all. The words would barely qualify as a whisper, but it was enough to let Chris know he'd been summoned.

"Don't talk Ezra. Nathan here is gonna fix you up." Chris crawled cautiously into the wagon. "You just rest."

He had to lean in to hear what Ezra was so anxious to share. "No will. My things - find who needs them most."

"Knock it off Ezra. You'll need your things cause you ain't dying. That's an order, you hear me?"

"Please." Ezra's head lolled to the side as he gasped out the final word before succumbing to the pain and shock.

"OK, Ezra. I'll take care of things till you're feeling right."

Josiah cradled Ezra as best as he could, and Buck secured the riderless horses to the wagon, then settled into the seat and urged the horses to a cautious ride back to town.

7-7-7-7-7-7-7

The silence in the saloon was oppressive. Night had fallen, and the town was quiet now. Mary had brought sandwiches over for the men, which still sat untouched on the table. Several pots of coffee had been made, and more than a few beers had been drunk as well. So far, there had been only a couple of positive moments to lift their spirits. The first had come when JD and Vin returned.

"Chaucer's back in his stall. Was tied up about a mile away. Damn near bolted when we got him loose."

JD had a mildly confused look on his face. "I swear to you Chris, he knows something is wrong."

"Knowing that horse, I'm sure he does."

Most of the townsfolk who had come by were there for morbid curiosity more than any concern. Buck's stare had chased of the few he'd heard speculating that the gambler had likely had it coming to him for cheating at the tables. Vin had held him back with the reminder that Nathan was going to have his hands full for the next few days and giving him anyone else in need of medical attention would only distract focus from Ezra.

"You can set folks straight later Buck - I'll help you." Shortly after that the saloon doors opened again, and Buck stood and spun, ready to take on the fool who dared disturb them.

"Please forgive the intrusion gentlemen." Mrs. Potter stood in the doorway, struggling with the basket she was holding. JD leapt to his feet, pushing past Buck to help her. "I - I have heard the talk of how badly Mr. Standish was hurt. I can imaging Mr. Jackson will be needing bedding and towels, and thought - well hoped he might be able to use these. I took the liberty of adding a few of those peppermints that Mr. Standish likes to give to his horse. Perhaps one of you could..."

Buck walked slowly toward her, taking her hand and raising it, brushing a gentle kiss to her knuckles. "You, madam, are a true lady, and a saint. My apologies if I startled you earlier." She blushed and turned away.

"We'll see to it that you get paid for these when things settle down some."

"You will do no such thing Mr. Larabee. I know there are some folks around here not to partial to the way you do things, but as far as I am concerned, these few things are just my contribution to paying you back for what you try to do for this town. You try to pay me, and I will be deeply offended."

She blushed again as he tipped his hat to her and Buck held the door as she left. The men looked at each other, smiling for only the second time that evening. The moment didn't last long as the melancholy mood returned.

Sikes had been sent packing almost as soon as they had got Ezra settled. Chris didn't want to look at the man and listening to him grovel and protest his innocence was more than any of them wanted to deal with. "Get out town, and don't set foot in the area again if you want to keep breathing." With a threat like that, Chris was flabbergasted to see Sikes a couple of hours later. The man was shaking as he walked up, holding an envelope in front of him. "This is Standish's share. Don't want any of you to think I tried to cheat him on anything. It's all there." He turned to leave, but Vin blocked him.

"Share of what?"

"His cut, like we negotiated."

Chris looked into the envelope and did a quick count on the cash. He had no idea what should be there, but he had a feeling this was low. "This it?"

The fear in Sikes eyes was proof he wasn't trying to fool anyone. "Like we agreed. He agreed on less because he wouldn't let me use the wheel or sell the potions. Oh, and because I had to make sure the kids got prizes." When there was no response, Sikes continued as his nerves got the better of him. "He damn near walked away without asking me for any of it, then I had to open my fool mouth. Talked him down though - from his usual 25 to just 12 percent. It's all there." He pointed at the envelope Chris still held.

"Why would you agree to give him anything?"

Sikes favoured him with the same look an adult gives to a child who simply doesn't understand the ways of the world. "He's a Standish. That name means something on our side of the law. Figured whatever he was doing here in town had to be a sweet deal and if he was willing to let me operate so close by, then I was willing to pay for the privilege. I assumed there would be some rich marks around. Figured wrong. Either that or he already cleaned them out." The glares he got silenced that line of thought. When no one spoke, he hurried toward the door, making good his getaway.

Chris tossed the money onto the table where it lay untouched. "So he was in on it after all." Just when he thought he had things figured, the facts spun around.

Buck saw it differently. "Not sure I'd describe it that way. I think it was more like he was trying to control what was happening."

"And got paid for it."

"Not near what he should have got. What he was used to getting. You can't expect him to give up all his ways. We all have our vices Chris. His are just a bit more obvious. You heard Sikes. He took less than he should and made sure people didn't get cheated. I'd say he did what he was supposed to. Hell, he even found a way to look after the kids in the deal."

JD smiled unexpectedly. "He did more than that Chris. Casey told me she saw him all but force money on Mrs. Everly, so she could buy a doll for Molly. From the reaction, it was more than he needed to. I figured either Casey got it wrong, or there was some kinda game on that. But there wasn't one. He just doesn't really know how to operate like most folks when it comes to giving - only taking. Guess maybe he's trying to learn."

The scene on the wagon came back like a slap in the face to Chris. "Told me if he dies I'm supposed to give his stuff to folks who need it. Said he didn't have a will."

They sobered at the implication of the request. "I'd guess he's never had anyone he wanted to leave stuff to before this." Vin suggested. They sat back, considering everything that simple idea meant.

M7-M7-M7-M7-M7-M7-M7

 ** _tbc_**


	7. Chapter 7

Nathan looked Ezra over, trying to see if there was something, anything, he could do to make the man comfortable. Or at least look comfortable since he doubted Ezra was feeling any pain right now. Doubted in fact that he was feeling, or aware, of anything. They'd been about halfway back to town when Nathan noticed the change. A slight slowing in the breathing was the first indication. There were still shallow raspy breath sounds, but they were less frequent. That was the trigger to make him check on other indicators. The pain lines were fading from around his eyes and mouth, smoothed out by the slackened muscles of deep unconsciousness. Nathan had pinched Ezra carefully, in spots the others wouldn't notice. There had been absolutely no reactions. The final proof he needed came when Josiah and Buck carefully transported the still form from the wagon to the clinic. Ezra failed to react to any of it. No sounds, no twitches, not even simple reflex action. He was in a deep coma, and Nathan had no expectation that the situation would change.

His gaze settled on the bruising that went beyond the coverage of the bandages on Ezra's head. It was dark and ominous. The shape told him what happened – a boot to the head. It had taken some time for the effects to surface, but they finally had. Nathan had no doubt now that there had been bleeding in the skull for the hours that Ezra had hung limply in that field. Slowly moving closer to death. It was hard to think about, and even harder to accept the reality that finding him earlier wouldn't have helped. From everything that was happening now, it seemed pretty clear that he had started dying the moment he was kicked, and there wouldn't have been anything anyone could have done. None of that knowledge helped.

"I'm sorry Ezra. For a lot of things. I don't see you'd take comfort knowing that even a real doctor couldn't have helped with this, 'cause I take no comfort saying it. Mostly what I'm sorry for has nothing to do with this – least not directly. I don't guess you can hear me, but I need to say this anyway – just in case. Buck told me about what you said to Sikes yesterday. Don't imagine you'd be happy to know anyone heard you. You do seem to like hiding away the decent things you do. Anyway, it made me ashamed when I heard it. Seems like you've come a lot further at moving past our first meeting than I have, but then I guess you've been trying where I ain't. I don't know if we'd ever have become real good friends Ezra, the way some folks do. I think there are a lot of things that might have kept that from happening. But I think, well I think we might have come a lot closer to it if there had been more time, and I'm telling you straight, I wish we'd had that chance."

He wiped the faint sheen of sweat from Ezra's face, feeling the warmth of a low fever. Settling the blankets into place, he looked away for a moment to catch his breath before continuing. "I'm gonna let the others know what's happening. Reckon they'll be coming around to see you."

-7-

The sun was up before Nathan made an appearance. He looked like he could barely put one foot in front of the other and held a hand up to silence the questions until he could get some stale, strong coffee. The first gulp nearly gagged him. Taking a deep breath, he turned to face the stares.

"He's still unconscious. I got him cleaned and stitched. The cuts were bad, but weren't meant to kill him, just make him suffer. Bastards wanted him to die slow out there."

"But, he didn't die. He's gonna be ok, right?" JD hoped saying it would make it true. The lack of an immediate response was not encouraging.

Nathan pulled a chair around and sat down heavily, exhaustion taking what little optimism he had. "I don't see how he can be JD. Never seen a man beat that bad survive it. And all those hours tied up like that in the sun. He's dried out and burned. His shoulder is wrecked, he's got at least a dozen busted bones. Don't know if his eyes are ok - too swollen to tell. The main thing though, the important thing in all of this is that he isn't showing any signs of waking up - of understanding."

"He spoke to me Nathan, and he knew what he was saying. At least we know his head is clear."

"Was clear Chris. Best I can tell from everything that's happening, and everything that isn't, he's bleeding in his head and…damn it. He's just too busted up. Was right from the beginning. I've done what I can, but I gotta say, I don't think being in the best hospital around could help him. He's just - he's just too hurt." He swallowed the rest of the coffee, hoping he wasn't going to have it all come back up on him. "I've done what I can to make it easier, not that it really makes a difference."

"He hurting?" Vin didn't like the idea of the end being so long and slow if it was just serving to torture the gambler.

"No. I don't think he feels anything."

"Then why bother?" JD didn't mean it to sound cruel. He just couldn't see the point if this was all true.

"Cause it's what you do for a patient. For a fr-" Nathan stumbled over the word. "It's just what you do."

"Seriously?" Buck growled at the healer. "Even now, after what I told you he said, after what Sikes told us about why he wasn't selling that damned snake oil, you still can't bring yourself to call Ezra your friend?"

Nathan shook his head, not able to look up. "I don't have that right."

Buck stopped himself from saying any more. Nathan continued a moment later. "Figure if you guys want to say good bye, you best do it soon."

The tableau of grief broke when Josiah stood. "I'm going to go sit with him for a few minutes." Nobody reacted.

-7-

"I should admit to you that I always knew my ways and my approach to you tended to vex you some, Son. Well I guess right there was a perfect example. Use of that term did tend to get under your hide. Of course, I'm sure you had already figured out that was a good part of why I did it. I like to think I'm pretty good about figure what makes a man do the things he does. Part of the preacher in me – needing to read a man's soul. But yours is a mystery." He stopped long enough to reach out and gently take the smaller, bandaged hand in his own. "I know there's more there, deep below the surface. Too deep for your own good. I really had hoped to have more time to get through all of the layers you wrapped yourself in and find out who the real Ezra Standish was. Think we were beginning to get just a glimpse of him. Maybe that was a first for you too." He used his free hand to gently brush back a few hairs that stuck out at strange angles from the bandages.

"Now, other than your sharing with me that you preached the gospel for a bit, albeit for less than pious reasons, we never did really discuss what you do or don't believe. So I'm just gonna have to assume that you won't mind if I say a bit of a prayer for you now." With that, Josiah began praying for a miracle he didn't dare to allow himself to believe might come to pass.

-7-

JD really didn't want to sit with someone who was dying. He'd had more than enough of that sitting with his ma and figured doing that once in a lifetime was all that should be asked of any man. Then he thought on his ma, and what she would say about being there for a friend in trouble, especially one with no family to speak of. He wasn't going to let her down, and that meant not letting Ezra down.

"You probably wouldn't have liked her. My ma I mean. She would have seen through your act a lot faster than any of us did. She wouldn't have been at all surprised when you bought that doll for Molly or did the things you did for the kids at the carnival. Ma would have known you had that in you, and I don't think you would have liked that.

She wouldn't have liked the fact you were teaching me poker, I can promise you. Gambling was a sin as far as she was concerned. Of course, you'd tell her since you only bet on a hand you could win, you didn't consider it gambling at all. She would have called you on that one, no doubt about it. I wish you were gonna be able to stick around to teach me more Ezra, and not just because I want to get as good as you are.

I like having you around. It's kind of fun watching you keep the others on their toes. Chris gets so flummoxed by you there are times he's just too mad to spit. Can get Buck stumped too with your fancy talk and all. I think he's worried that you would give him too much competition with the ladies if you ever turned your attention away from the tables." JD stopped talking when he felt the tears starting to warm his cheeks. "Damn it Ezra, things aren't gonna be nearly so interesting around here now. Ain't right of you to do that to us."

-7-

Buck leaned against the door frame, not wanting to step all the way in. He'd made his way up after watching JD rush out a few minutes earlier. Even at a distance, he could see the pain on the young man. Standing where he was now, it was easy to see what had brought that on.

This felt too much like a funeral home, and he made sure to stay as far way from them as he could. He wouldn't call himself a superstitious man, but that didn't mean he had to put himself to close into the path of anything dealing with death. He came close enough to that on his own without encouraging any contact.

If he'd thought for a minute it might make a difference, he'd walk right in there and sit down to give Ezra a good talking to. Yell at him from making JD cry like that. Let him know how much this was going to hurt Nathan even though he likely wouldn't believe him. How much it was going to hurt all of them.

"I saw it you know Ezra. Saw you defending Nathan. Saw you fighting your demons and your guilt when you did it. Don't know what you did in the past, and don't really care. Pretty sure it wasn't as bad as you think it was. I figure any man that cares for a horse the way you do, cares about the kids the way you do, well you just can't be all that bad. So no matter what you may have decided about yourself, I don't think you have it in you to be that bad. Sure as hell not like the bastards that did this. Don't know if anyone let you know they won't be hurting anyone else. I think that would matter to you."

-7-

"Can't believe you're gonna leave me on my own here with this bunch. You and I both know we're more like each other than we are like the others. Not just cause we both hail from the south. Different parts, but still southern boys. On first look, that's about all there is we share. You talk better, that's for sure. And dress – well fancier. Not sure out here I'd call it better, but it sure looks nicer. And you put on a show every time you walk into a room, where as I just try to slip in nice and quiet. Like I said, that's all most folks see. But you and me, we like being on our own. We don't want to depend on anyone else. I never really had the chance to growing up, and even though you haven't said so, I figure you're the same. Buck called me a lone wolf, which might be one of the nicest things anyone ever said about me. Think it fits you too, which was why it was kind of good to think I'd found someone to be a lone wolf with – if that makes sense. You'd be saying this better." Vin stopped to collect his thoughts, knowing he was rambling far more than he usually did. But then, this was a longer speech than he was used to as well. "Point is Ezra, it was nice to find someone who understood that side of me, and I'm gonna miss having you around. I know that ain't fancy or wordy the way you get, but it is true, and that's the best I can do."

-7-

"Wish I could find a way to force you into sticking around. I mean, I get this isn't exactly running out on us, but it sorta feels like it somehow." Chris was near the foot of the bed, straddling the chair he had turned and rest his arms over the back of it. "Don't think you'd be surprised to know I became convinced you stuck around as some kind of payback to me – finding ways to make me regret ever asking you to join us in the first place. Now I'm regretting it for a different reason. You wouldn't be lying here if you had just ignored me. Or moved on when we were done in that village, or when you earned your pardon. I think staying around might have been because of what I said, and if that was the only reason, then I'm damned sorry Ezra. Having something to prove seems to have come at a damned high price."

He pushed his hat back further and rested his head on his folded arms. "We're trying to find your mother Ezra. We sent a telegram to the last place you told us you'd heard from her, but she wasn't there. We won't give up. And I want you to know I heard what you asked me. I'll make sure your stuff goes where it can do some good. Don't know yet where that will be, but I'm sure Josiah and the others will have some ideas. I'm gonna keep my promise to you Ezra – just like you kept yours."

M7-M7-M7-M7-M7-M7-M7

 ** _tbc_**


	8. Chapter 8

Despite the fact there was no one in the jail, JD spent most of his waking time there for the last three days. He sat, reviewing every wanted poster they had, memorizing each face until he was sure he would see them in his sleep. More importantly, until he was sure he would recognize any of them who dared to come close to Four Corners again. He tried not to dwell on the fact that if he had done that before, if he had recognized Arthur – which turned out to be his surname – and Coulson, then Ezra might not be lying across down fading away into nothing.

Being here, doing this, made him feel useful. Not like sitting in that room. That was a waste, and he vowed he wasn't going back. Buck was mad at him for that. No, not mad. Disappointed was the better word. He could still hear the reaction.

 _"_ _I've seen a lot of people die kid. Can't help but think some part is there right to the end. Part that knows what's going on. That's who you're saying goodbye to."_

 _"_ _That's who you might be saying goodbye to. I'm not going in there. That ain't Ezra. Ezra was bigger than that. He was too alive to be dead."_

 _Buck stared until JD finally raised his eyes to make contact. "You do what you have to do kid. Just remember, you have to live with whatever call you make."_

When Vin looked over on hearing the soft tap on the door he had to force himself to keep a smile of relief from his face. Buck hadn't been the only one worried about JDs avoidance.

"Okay if I come in?"

"You bet. I'll leave you two to talk."

"No. You don't have to go." Vin put a hand on the young man's arm. "Yeah, I do. Just give me one more minute."

"Ez – Ezra. I'm doing my best with Chaucer, but you know what a stubborn cuss he can be. I promise you will figure out a way to help him pass this. He's going to miss you as much as we will." He placed a hand on Ezra's forehead for a moment before leaving the room.

"I should've been by more often Ezra. Sorry about that. I just didn't know, couldn't figure out – ah shit. This isn't right. I know what I want to say, just not how to say it. Wish I had your way with words. But there's never been a minute in your life you didn't have the exact right thing to say. Of course it's likely half the people listening didn't understand you, but I think that might've been your favourite part."

He took a deep breath, trying to settle himself. "Anyway, Vin was right. We're going to look after Chaucer for you. It'll take all of us to spoil him the way you did. I just hope he lets us.

And you should know a lot of folk in town are real upset about this. Not as many as should be, but me and the others been setting folks straight if they say anything stupid." Maybe he shouldn't be telling Ezra that part. He watched the slow breathing and searched for something else to talk about. After a few minutes, he decided that just sitting quietly was a perfectly fine way to spend time with a friend.

7-7-7-7-7-7-7

Buck opened the door quietly, hoping not to disturb Nathan if he had actually managed to get a bit of sleep on the second bed in the clinic. He wasn't expecting to see it empty, or to see Chris slouched in the chair by the window, half asleep with a book on the table next to him.

"Got called out a few hours ago. Mrs. Cortez is having her baby, and seems it was getting rough. Sent one of the kids into town. Nathan got me up to come an sit till he got back, or someone else showed up."

Buck handed Chris the coffee he had intended for himself. He could get more later. "He should have got me. You had a long day yesterday doing double patrols."

"We're all tired. Gotta sort out the schedule better."

"Kinda hard to do that when no one wants to be to far away." He looked over to the bed for the first time. "Don't suppose there is any change."

Chris didn't bother with a reply. For three days they had been sitting with Ezra, watching and waiting. Nathan had told them that there wasn't much time for the gambler, but apparently Ezra was proving to be contrary right up to the end. The hope for a miracle had faded, although at first JD kept trying to convince himself that as long as Ezra kept breathing, he was going to wake up. When Nathan finally explained that it wouldn't be Ezra waking up, but a shell of the man they had known, JD stopped wishing.

Buck kept his sigh silent as he pulled the chair closer to the bed, reaching for a cloth to start his ritual. "You're looking pretty ragged Ez. Don't imagine you'd care to much for it if you could see in a mirror. Swelling's down some. Maybe a bit later we could give you a shave – tidy you up some."

"How much longer you think he's gonna hang on?" Chris wouldn't have imagined they'd still be taking care of Ezra after this much time. He looked so frail already that it was hard to figure how he was still with them. They'd been able to get water into him, swallowed by reflex rather than any conscious effort. Beyond that, there was nothing they could do, and the strain was beginning to show on all of them. "I mean, it's not that I want…"

"Don't worry Chris, I get what you mean. I've wondered the same myself. Came up with a notion." His grin did what it was supposed to, and piqued Chris's curiosity. "See, I figure he is up there at the pearly gates, trying to fast talk his way in. Don't know if they would be playing cards up there – have to check with Josiah on than I suppose – but you can bet Ezra will be working every angle, and not giving in on anything till he's found the trick he needs to stroll into heaven just like there was never any doubt on the matter."

"Do me a favour. Make sure I'm around when you offer that theory to Josiah. Can't wait to hear the reaction."

Buck's grinned faded as he looked back at the bed. "I just keep finding myself hoping Nathan is right. That there is nothing going on in Ezra's head. I can't imagine what kind of hell that would be."

He paused for a moment. "You know Chris - I've been thinking."

"First time for everything."

"I've been thinking," he resumed, ignoring the comment, "about what Sikes said. You know? About Ezra's cut, and the Standish name and all that."

Chris had an idea where this was going. The discussion had been weighing on his mind as well. "Just what have you been thinking?"

"That maybe we've been a bit too tough on him."

"He did take a cut of the profits."

Buck shrugged. "Wouldn't be too hard to make the argument he was earning it by controlling how the show ran."

"That wasn't his job."

There was a decided lack of conviction to the statement. "You know, you don't exactly sound like you are too sold on what you're saying." There was no immediate answer. "We knew - you knew - what he was when you asked him to ride with us in the first place. And when you agreed to letting him stick around. Ain't like this was running out on us. He'd kept that promise."

"I know. Been thinking the same. None of us is perfect, and asking him to give up his ways completely does seem like holding him to a harder deal."

"The others agree."

Chris hadn't expected to hear that. "You talked to all of them first?"

Another broad shrug preceded the answer. "Thought I might need some support on this. Vin wanted me to remind you of what he did for the kids, and Nathan - well Nathan wants me to remind you about pretty much everything."

"Damn it - you all see me as that hard ass?"

"I really don't think you want me answering that. But you gotta admit - you're hard on Ezra - more than on the rest of us."

He would have loved to deny it. To insist that he held them all to an equal standard - one that was needed to make sure they all stayed alive. But he knew he'd be lying. Ezra had done nothing since that first incident other than work to prove his worth to the team. Sure, he'd looked for every angle he could play, and did seem to go out of his way to be a pain in the ass, but he'd come through every time they needed him to. He probably should have acknowledged that sooner.

"Tell you what has me curious Buck. That comment about the Standish name. Makes me wonder just how notorious a family he comes from."

"Might explain a lot." Buck frowned, looking down at the bed again. "Damn shame we aren't gonna get to hear that story."

"Damn shame about a lot of this."

7-7-7-7-7-7-7

Six beers sat on the table, in various stages of consumption. Two fresh glasses sat untouched. One was there for Buck. JD knew he'd be ready for one when he came down in a few minutes. He talked tough, like he was handling this just fine, but the kid knew it was eating away at him, just like all of them. The second was for Nathan. He'd been spotted riding toward town, and they figured he'd be dropping by once he got cleaned up a bit and had checked in on his patient.

A glass of brandy sat in front of the other empty seat. Ezra's seat. Back to the wall, a habit engrained from concern over disgruntled card players coming back to demonstrate to their frustrations. The position had also allowed him to size up new marks as they entered.

"I just remember he kept insisting he could sing much better than that if he'd been using his own voice!" Vin could barely speak he was laughing so hard. Josiah too, was gasping for breath. "Never did try to prove it to us though. Expect he was exaggerating a mite."

"Ezra? Exaggerate?" Chris put on an astonished face. "Well that could never happen."

"Same as he told the gospel truth when he bragged about his poker winnings." JD added.

Vin considered his lost wages. "Now that, I don't think he exaggerated."

As the laughter faded, so did the mood, again.

"I know things won't change. I mean I know we still have a job to do. But damnit Chris, it don't feel right."

"You think I don't get that Vin?"

Josiah sighed. "It changes nothing, but it changes everything."

"Guess that says it," JD agreed as he finished off his glass.

A slow smile came to Chris's face. "I don't know if any of you are going to be able to even come close to riling me up the way he could."

Hearing the statement, Buck matched the grin as he came into the room. "Well, I'm sure we'll all make the effort. Thanks to Ezra, we know what to try."

"Nathan's back?"

"Yeah, sitting with him for a bit." Buck eyed the beer and JD nodded, confirming the assumption it was for him. It was downed quickly, preparing him for what he was about to say. "He thinks we should all come over. He took one look at Ezra and said things had changed."

 **M7-M7-M7-M7-M7-M7-M7**

 _ **tbc**_


	9. Chapter 9

_The hollowness of the world around him was annoying. He couldn't seem to focus on anything happening and worse, was unable to share that fact with anyone. Ezra tried to concentrate but couldn't bring his thought together. There were sounds, voices he thought, but nothing that was discernable. Nothing was visible to him either, just faint sensations of light and dark. What the hell was going on._

 _His memories were a jumbled mess. Flashes in his mind jumped from childhood to Four Corners and back again, encompassing a myriad of moments along the way, most of which were better left buried in the recesses of his psyche. Instead, he tried to wake himself. Bring himself to the present, wherever that turned out to be._

 _The first thing he was aware of was pain. A great deal of pain, and it seemed to envelop him. The more he tried to figure out the source, the strong the feelings became. It had been much more pleasant, albeit frustrating, before he'd awakened these sensations. Try though he might, he couldn't see himself slipping back. Something told him that would be a critical error in judgement. It wouldn't have been his first, but something was telling him it would be his last._

 _He worked on shifting his concentration. The sounds – voices? – had changed. A deeper voice, more resonant. The words were still too muffled, too distorted to discern. The tone was sorrowful, that much he was certain of. He wanted to try to say something to relieve the grief, but the fatigue and exhaustion robbed him of that chance, and he let it all fade away so that he could rest._

 _The voices were back. Different voices. Two people, two men. He couldn't say how he knew it, but he was certain this wasn't the first time he'd been hearing discussions, although none of them were decipherable to him. That was why this one stood out more. The words were clear, but he knew they were words, not just noise. And, and this was what truly got his attention, he recognized the voices. Buck and Nathan. What were they doing here? For that matter, where was here? He wanted to ask them. Wanted to be a part of whatever was going on, but it was too much of an effort to express that. When he even thought about it, the aches and pains that ran through him increased in their intensity, pushing him back toward the void._

 _It had been quiet. He didn't know for how long. He had no sense of that concept at all. But there was definitely noise now. Voices and movement. Several voices. Were they all here? That was the sense he had. That, and a sense of grief far more palpable than what he had experienced before. Someone was dying. Enough of what they were saying was sinking though the fog for that to register. One of them was dying. He didn't want to think about it but couldn't stop himself. He had to figure out whose voice was missing -and was about to be missing on a permanent basis. One by one he identified the tones. Words were vague, with only a few coming through to him._

 _"…_ _changed. Can't say why." That was Nathan. He was worried, maybe hurting over what he was sharing. No doubt feeling guilty despite what Ezra knew was a non-stop effort to help their injured associate._

 _"…_ _hurting?" JD was concerned about someone being in pain. That didn't surprise him. The young man had an amazing gift for empathy, which was bound to cause him hurt of his own some day._

 _"_ _Looks calm." So Chris was alright as well. That was good. He would be able to see the others through this loss, whoever it was._

 _"…_ _tougher than he looks – always thought…" Good. Buck was alright. JD would grieve for whichever of their number fell, but losing Buck would be like losing family, and the young man was still coping with that grief._

 _Ezra waited for more voices to seep through. Vin and Josiah. He dreaded that is was either man. As someone who didn't form friendships, recognizing that simple fact disturbed him. He recognized that it meant he had settled into a zone of comfort that, up until this point in his life, he had been able to elude. Once this was resolved – whatever this was – he would be wise to move away from this town before further attachments were formed with whomever of their rank and file was left._

 _"…_ _without you…" Vin. Soft and quiet, but Vin. So, Josiah was dying. Ezra felt his chest tighten as the words registered with him. He wondered who would say the words over the big man's grave. Who was praying for his soul now._

 _"…_ _praying for you Son." Wait. That was Josiah. He was alright. Josiah was praying for … son? For him. Oh dear God! "me – I'm dying". The thought punched through the haze, pain and confusion. They were gathered here with him. For him. Saying goodbye._

 _No. This is wrong. None of this should be happening. He tried to pay attention to the words, but things had gone quiet. Only a mumbling sound. That had to be Josiah praying. Well that was a waste of energy. All the prayer in the world wouldn't save a soul as tarnished as his. Damnit, he wasn't ready to die. He still had so much to do. For one thing, JD desperately needed more poker lessons. The boy was never going ot have a nickel to his name the way he played now. He wanted to hear the stories the men had to tell. Vin's discoveries from living within the native communities. Buck's self-proclaimed legendary escapades with the fairer sex. Nathan's harrowing history on his path to his freedom. Chris's family times. They had all led interesting lives, and he was sure their adventures would provide him with endless entertainment._

 _He had the vague notion that was how friends interacted. He was enjoying the sensation. He had even dared to think that he might be forming a tentative association with Nathan, tenuous though it may be. The thought these relationships – friendships? – were ending created an different, and deeper ache insider him. Not to mention the fact that there were just so many more ways to torment Chris that h_ _e'd yet to try. His mind laughed at the realization that he had been calling them each by their given name. A barrier which hadn't moved in years had not just fallen, but crumbled, at a point that it was too late to make a difference._

 _He didn't want to give up, but he could feel the changes. The cocoon of tranquility he'd had when awareness began creeping back was all but gone. He could hear almost everything they were saying, and although he couldn't open his eyes, in his mind, he saw them all. The pain was sharpening, making concentration difficult. Were it not for the fact escaping it meant death, he would be seeking out the comfort of oblivion. He didn't want that. He didn't want to go, but what was he supposed to do? Then, suddenly, he could think of nothing as he felt himself tumbling and falling. He could make out nothing below. Just an abyss of blackness. The darkness overtook him, and all awareness was gone._

 **M7-M7-M7-M7-M7-M7-M7**

 _ **tbc**_


	10. Chapter 10

They didn't hurry over, none of the men being in any rush to get to what was waiting for them. Knowing something was going to happen was different than being there when it did, and the knowledge that Nathan was with Ezra meant he wasn't going to die alone. They also all knew that really wasn't enough, wasn't what he deserved. The revelation seemed to come to all five at the same time, and they picked up their speed, with JD being the first to climb the stairs.

"We still in time?" the young man asked as he entered, being pushed ahead gently as the others followed.

"Sure are." There was a look on Nathan's face they hadn't seen in several days. Josiah was the first to get up the courage to ask what it meant.

"He's hurting." Nathan answered.

Vin frowned. "Just why would you be taking pleasure in that? Hasn't he been through enough?"

"Vin. He's hurting. He's feeling pain. He feeling something." It took a moment for the significance to register.

"You said he couldn't feel anything anymore."

"Said I figured he couldn't. All things considered, he shouldn't be aware of anything going on, but when I saw that he was tensed up some, I started thinking maybe I figured wrong. Checked at his eyes. When you put the light near, they react. They weren't doing that before."

"Nathan," Chris spoke with caution, "you're telling us he's ok?"

The healer looked back at his patient then at the hopeful faces around him. "I'm telling you I think the problem in his head basically took care of itself. I still say there was bleeding – had to be with the way he's been out. But it might not have been as bad as I thought, and with the rest and quiet, it healed up." He held up a hand before the celebrations could begin. "That doesn't mean this is over."

"But if he's getting better…?" JD wanted to start dancing in the streets, and didn't like the last sentence Nathan spoke.

"Like I said, he's tensed up. Some of that is pain. Some of it may be whatever his mind is dealing with, and how it's coping. Lots of folks, when they wake up after a coma, talk about nightmares and thinking they were dead, or dying. It's hard to know what he's going through."

Josiah could hear what wasn't being said. "You think whatever happened may have caused trouble."

"I hate to say it, but there is good reason to think so. It's been four days since he so much as blinked. On top of the head problems, he's got the rest of the injuries as well. A body can only take so much without breaking down some, and until he wakes up, we can't say how bad things might be."

Vin latched on to the one optimistic word in the sentence. "You said 'until'. So he is going to wake up?"

"At this point, I'd say things are fifty/fifty on that, but since I wasn't giving him a chance in hell before, that's pretty good. And the way he manages to keep beating the odds, nothing would surprise me anymore. We need to make sure we keep getting water into him, and some of the teas and broth. Try to build up his strength."

JD started out the door. "I'll get to the diner – get him some of the soup to start with." His enthusiasm wasn't about to be tempered by the cautious concerns Nathan was expressing. The rest of the team was fighting to remain realistic about the options as well but given this was the first moment of hope in days, they weren't entirely successful.

"Shouldn't we be leaving him in more peace and quiet than this?" Josiah offered.

"For now. I want to check him over. See about reflexes and reactions, so yeah, be a good idea to let us alone for a bit. We need to keep up the vigil though. Even more important now. Talking to him might help to wake him up."

Buck slapped Chris on the back. "You're gonna have to figure out how to keep talking for your shift cowboy. That's gonna be hard on you." Like JD, he refused to accept the idea this wasn't all going to work out. As a result, he was grinning so broadly his cheeks hurt, and didn't care that he was getting a scowl at his comments.

"I can figure a way. Just tell him about the trouble you keep managing to get yourself into. And I thought I told you…"

"Yeah, not to call you cowboy." The men were chuckling as they left, more the result of a release of tension than of any real humour. Josiah lingered behind and moved next to the bed, just a few steps from Nathan.

"What chance is there that it will be **our** Ezra waking up?" Nathan looked up, started by the question. It was one he really had hoped not to be asked. "I've had some experience in the past with people who have been damaged, either physically or emotionally. They are not the same, and mere existence inside an institution would not be a choice our gambling friend would make."

Despite the desire to avoid the reality, Nathan couldn't lie about this. "It's not a choice he has. I can't say what kind of damage may or may not have happened Josiah. We can't know that until he can tell us."

"Or can't tell us. You do realize the life sentence you are subjecting him to if things are less than ideal?"

"What do you want me to do about Josiah? I can't change things."

Josiah stood quietly, thinking of the mischievous smile and sparkling wit that Ezra favoured them with on a daily basis. The love of language, the thrill of the action, the calculating manner in which every aspect of his life was laid out. The notion that the man who loved living in that style would be reduced to a shell that had no such spirit or will remaining tore at his heart.

"If that proves to be the circumstance his is left in, I need you to make me a promise."

"I many not be a doctor Josiah, but I know the oath. Do no harm. I won't violate that."

The big man shook his head vehemently. "And I would never ask you to. Would never ask that of any man. I assume that you would recommend he be moved to a facility that can care for him in such a state."

"You know about such places?"

"As I indicated, I have had reason in my life to become familiar with them." Josiah didn't share details, and Nathan knew better than to pry.

"If things were that bad, that he couldn't stay here, then yeah, that would be the best thing for him. Ain't saying I like it, just that it would be the way to deal with it."

"My request then is simple: that you make sure, by whatever means you can, that I will be the one to escort him."

Nathan didn't like the way the conversation had turned. "Why do you want to do that?"

There was a brief hesitation as Josiah chose his words carefully. "To ensure that Ezra is given the chance to deal with this turn in the manner he would choose for himself. To ensure his final destination would be acceptable to him."

"What I can promise you Josiah, is that if things come to that point, **all of us** are going to do what is best of him, and we can talk about that if we need to. Right now, I'm gonna do what I can to make sure we don't have to have that talk."

7-7-7-7-7-7-7

Buck paced the small space so often he was beginning to work a groove into the flooring. Patience had never been a virtue of his. In truth, there were few virtues he could boast of. But after nearly four days of waiting for Ezra to die, spending three more days waiting for him to wake up had worn down his last nerve.

"Damn it Ezra, this isn't funny. We have things to be doing, and this is just not helping on that score. I haven't been over to Miss Callie's place since all of this started. Well that just ain't right for a man to go that long without company. Least, not this man. But with patrols, and sitting with you, and worrying and all. Well, point is, you need to wake up, so I can get back to my normal way of dealing with…things."

"If I didn't hear it, I wouldn't have believed it. You're yelling at an unconscious man because you haven't been able to avail yourself of the company of any ladies for a week?" Chris stared in disbelief. "Even for you, that's over the top."

"Man's got needs Chris."

"Well, don't let a little thing like this interfere with your urges Wilmington. I'm sure Ezra would understand your priorities."

The two men stared each other down, with Buck understandably being the first to back down. "It ain't priorities Chris. You know that. I just can't take sitting here, watching him. I keep figuring the longer he sleeps, the less likely he is to wake up."

Larabee signed deeply. He understood at least some of the frustration. "Nathan keeps trying to tell me it's the opposite. The more he sleeps, the more he's healing. Sure looks better."

That fact couldn't be disputed. The bruising had faded to pale purples and a sickening, but healing, shade of yellow. The swelling had also lessened considerably, to the point that Ezra actually looked almost like himself again. There was still blisters from the sunburn, but they too were showing signs of fading away, and looked like scarring would be minimal. His broken hand had been immobilized, his ribs re-taped and bandages on the other cuts, scrapes and torn skin were no longer tinged with his blood.

Adding to the muted optimism was the fact he had become, on occasion, restless. Nothing substantial, but there was movement. JD had been with him the first time Ezra seemed to be showing signs of coming back and summoned the others by screaming for Nathan from the window. It quickly looked like half the town was gathered below, waiting for news. The expectation was premature.

"Can't know whether it was dreaming or reacting to the pain. But it's a good sign. Every step forward is a good sign." There were more signs. More restless twitches, low moans and even the occasional mumbled sound. Small moments that gave glimpses of hope that, to date, had failed to come to fruition.

"Go on Buck. Go get yourself some fresh air – or whatever else you need. Don't imagine Ezra would want to be the cause of you straining yourself from too much control."

"You two don't hold it down in hear I'm gonna kick you both out." Nathan had come up the stairs when he heard the commotion. The looks of contrition seemed genuine enough that he didn't see the need to go any further with he lecture. He made his move instead toward the bed to check on his patient and stopped two steps later. "Ezra?" He looked down at the green eyes looking back up at him. "You hear me Ezra?"

Buck and Chris froze in place, waiting to hear the sweet southern drawl. For close to half a minute, no one moved. Finally Nathan pulled the chair closer to the bed and sat, taking Ezra's hand. "Can you hear me Ezra?" Buck and Chris both moved closer, but Nathan silenced them with a glance.

"Ezra, I want you to watch my finger." He moved his hand into Ezra's line of sight, holding it still, waiting for a sign that his request had been heard. A moment later he lowered his hand when Ezra closed his eyes.

He spoke before either man could question him. "Doesn't mean anything bad. He could be still waking up. Opening his eyes and being aware of what's going on don't necessarily happen at the same time."

"He didn't even know we were here." Chris argued.

"I'm not willing to say that yet. You have to keep in mind that every step forward is a bit of a miracle. We just have to take them one at a time is all."

Buck sat on the spare bed, his eyes not leaving Ezra's face. "Don't think we should tell the others. If this don't mean anything, there's no point getting there hopes up. And if it does mean something, then it will happen again. Guess this means we just gotta be more patient. We all know how much Ezra likes to sleep.

 **M7-M7-M7-M7-M7-M7-M7**

 _ **tbc**_


	11. Chapter 11

"Bet you didn't know there was a reward being offered for that Arthur fella – did you Ezra? Judge says we're not entitled to it since we're being paid as lawmen, but Chris figures that kind of money should go into some kind of fund we can use to help cover things when one of us gets hurt. Judge said he'd look into that." JD dropped on the second bed, leaning back against the pillow. He set his glass of milk on the small table and picked up the fork resting on his plate, starting in on a piece of pie.

"Oh, and Mrs. Everly baked a pie up for you. Said she got some nice apples off the tree in the yard and thought you might like that. We didn't tell her that you're partial to peach, or that nut pie you like. We also didn't tell her you weren't exactly eating anything solid yet. Buck figured you'd want us to share in her generosity, so we just said thank you." He took a couple more large bites. "It's a real good pie Ezra. You would have liked it.

"I fail to see why she would have prepared one for me, but have little doubt she would be willing to provide another when I am feeling more inclined toward partaking."

"Well, sure she wou- Ezra?" The fork, plate, and what small amount was left of the pie tumbled to the ground as JD jumped to his feet. "Ezra, are you awake?"

"It is possible I am somniloquizing, but I do not believe that to be the case."

"Somnil-what? Never mind. You're awake. And talking! Hot damn! Talking real good. Damn!" JD ran to the balcony nearly falling over his feet in the process. He looked down in the street for any of the others, and nearly jumped the railing seeing Josiah and Vin walking toward the jailhouse.

"Guys – he's awake. And he wants some pie!"

A few moments later Nathan was considering barricading the doors as the only way to banish them all from the room as he took his time examining Ezra. "Mr. Jackson, the next time you prod at me, rest assured I shall prod back."

He would have welcomed the prod as assurance he was not dreaming. This was simply to good to be true. "Sorry Ezra, but you were a lot of hurt. I need to see that everything is healing up right now that you can let me know where the pain is."

"The pain, to use a gross understatement, is everywhere. I would think that fact has been established at this juncture." Nathan grinned broadly. "You take some pleasure in knowing that I am suffering?"

"Not at all. I take a great deal of pleasure in hearing all them fancy words of yours after all this time. You had us all damn scared Ezra." His smile faded. "Damn scared."

Ezra sobered as well. "I have no recollection of the events that have led to this. None whatsoever. Is that a matter that should be of concern to me?"

"Nah. You took a bad hit to the head, and that likely knocked those memories clear. Fact that you are talking to me like this, and that you know who we are, and who you are tells me that you're gonna be ok. Do you think you feel up to letting the others see that as well? Like I said, they've been worried these last few days."

"In a moment. Mr. Jackson, I was not aggrandizing when I indicated my discomfort." He paused to get himself under control. "While there is a great deal of overall malaise, my hand..." he swallowed nervously.

"You've got a lot of healing up to do Ezra, but you will heal. Including the hand. Might take a bit of time for you to be able to do them fancy shuffles of yours, but you'll be back at the tables before you know it. And, you'll be more than capable to handle your weapon as well. Just give it time. Now, you ready for the others?" He stood and started for the door.

Dealing with Larabee and the rest was not high on Ezra's list of things he was looking forward to but saw little choice in the matter. He had the feeling he would not be left to rest in peace until they had had their say concerning whatever mess he had landed in to cause this situation. No doubt they would let him know quickly, as well as detailing the consequences.

"As I can see nothing short of confinement would keep them from having their chance to address my latest malfeasance, you best allow them entry before the door suffers irreparable damage."

"You got the motives wrong, but I'll let them tell you that."

Ezra watched the men walk into the room and was taken off guard by the looks he was getting. There was no apparent rancor or indignation visible on any of them. Unless he was reading them wrong, a situation that rarely occurred, the expressions were those of concern, relief and disbelief. He waited for one of them to start the reprimand, but they all just stared at him. It was extremely disconcerting.

"I have the overwhelming sensation that I am being studied with the same sense of incredulity as would be demonstrated on discovering a leprechaun lunching in the saloon. I would appreciate it if one or more of you could elucidate."

"The Lord truly does work in mysterious ways." Josiah's voice boomed out with an evangelical fervor. "Damn son, those words of yours sound sweet."

"Didn't understand half of what you said, but for once, I really don't care. Welcome back Hoss."

"Mr. Larabee, you are commonly the voice of reason in our ensemble. Please – what is going on?"

He looked over to Nathan. "You didn't fill him in?"

"No, and he doesn't remember any of it. Figured he'd have questions, and it would be easiest on him to only go through it all once with all of you to help."

Nodding, Chris turned back. After looking at his most troublesome team member for a moment, he pulled a chair over and sat down. "Why don't we start with you telling us the last thing you do remember. I'm guessing Nathan doesn't want you talking to much, so keep it short for a change."

"Mr. Jackson's wishes are irrelevant. Speech is painful, so I assure you, I shall restrict myself."

"Funny way of doing that." Vin smiled at him. "Just the highlights Ezra, not all the fancy stuff around it."

Ezra lay quietly for a moment, trying to piece together scattered images in his mind. He'd been doing that since shortly after waking, but the physical examination he'd undergone during that period was straining his ability to concentrate. Having six sets of eyes focused on him now did not make the task any easier. Mentally sighing, he decided to simple state what he recalled, hoping he could sensor himself as needed while he spoke.

"There was a gathering at the newspaper offices. Mrs. Travis was posting some kind of notification. An event?"

"A carnival." JD filled in the blank.

Dickens. Damn. Dickens was coming to town, and here he was stuck in bed. This could definitely be trouble.

"A carnival is coming to Four Corners?"

"Come and gone Ezra." Chris had seen the concern that Ezra was too tired and confused to hide.

Well, that no doubt explained why he was in trouble now. The continued silence and apparent concern were confusing , but he was forming a theory. Chris was waiting for him to trip himself up. To deny some action that they had proof of. He was going to have to be on his guard, and given the way he felt now, that wasn't going to be easy. "I see. Does that occurrence have something to do with my current situation?"

Vin nodded. "You might say that. You remember a man named Arthur? Or the Coulsons?"

The first name on its own meant nothing, but the second provided the spark needed. "I have had past encounters with the latter. However Arthur is a rather vague reference." He wet his lips cautiously, aware of how much it was staring to hurt when he moved his jaw. Nathan offered a small sip of water and helped dry Ezra when more went down his chin than in his mouth.

"Guys, maybe we should hold off. He's not really up to talking."

"That's OK Nathan. He can just listen for a bit then." Chris stood at the foot of the bed. "When you are feeling better, we are going to go over a few new rules about how things are going to work if you are gonna stay around Four Corners – and before you ask, yes, we are all hoping you still want to do that."

Ezra couldn't disguise his shock at that statement. He was certain from the moment the names were mentioned that things had gone badly - likely very badly. Chris's tone and his own condition were verification of the conclusion. Why then would they want him to remain? Apparently, whatever he did, it was not of a sufficiently damning nature he was to be driven from town. It did sound like he was going to have further restrictions imposed though. More scrutiny. Well, he was used to that.

Chris was still speaking. "You may not remember now everything that happened a week ago, but we do."

"Not about to forget it either." Vin added.

"What you did – "

"and who you did it for." Nathan interrupted Chris.

"And what you didn't do. And what you said."

Chris's words were confusing him. "If your intention is to befuddle me, you have succeeded admirably. I will confess to recalling none of that period. I have the feeling I do not want to know. I can surmise I will be spending much of my time over the next weeks issuing apologies, warranted or not, to the populace of our hamlet. Might I assume you expect me to be making some form of financial restitution as well?"

The fact that Nathan answered was almost as surprising as the words that were spoken. "You ain't the one who needs to be apologizing. We are. At least, I am."

"Mr. Jackson, could you please confirm for me that I am awake, and have not suffered some form of mental injury. Nothing that is happening here makes any kind of sense."

"Most of what's been going on sorta of runs against everything you keep telling us you're about." Josiah gave him an encouraging smile. "Seems like you might be a little less self-centred than you've been playing at."

"That, sir, is slander, and I will not allow you to speak of such things again."

"Don't worry – most folks wouldn't believe us if we had Mary put it in the paper." Ezra's eyes went wide with terror and Chris chuckled softly. "No Ezra, we didn't have her do it. In fact, had to talk her out of some of what she wanted to write."

"We reminded her how important your reputation was to you." Josiah explained.

Ezra closed his eyes. He shuddered slightly at the thought that whatever had happened had been enough that these men could possibly now think he was, heaven forbid, becoming respectable. Nathan misinterpreted the reaction.

"That's enough. He's still got a lot of healing to do, and I won't have any of you wearing him down. What he does or doesn't remember ain't important right now." He pulled the blankets back up to get Ezra comfortable again. "You are gonna heal up. You'll need to stay here for a while longer though."

"I would prefer – "

"We'll get you back to your room and that comfortable bed of yours as soon as we can. But for now, listen to what Nathan tells you and get some sleep. That's an order."

"One question, please. Why would Mrs. Everly be baking an apple pie for me?"

Chris flashed a grin. "We have a lot of talking to do Ezra. We'll fill you in on what you don't remember.

Knowing the gambler as well as he did, Vin thought he should try to ease what had to be a concern. "That talking Ezra, those rules Chris talked about. You ain't in trouble. And we intend to try to keep things that way."

Josiah smiled as well. "Though Lord knows, you make that difficult sometimes son."

"Now do like Nathan says – go to sleep."

"An order I would not have anticipated hearing from you Mr. Larabee."

"Guess there are gonna be a few things from all us you didn't expect to hear in the next little while." Ezra didn't understand Nathan's comment, but lacked the energy to question it. He settled himself deeper into his pillows, grateful for the respite from further discussion. "Rest Ezra. I'll be close by."

"Thank you, Mr. Jackson." Ezra's response was mumbled as he fell asleep.

"No. Thank you, Mr. Standish."

M7-M7-M7-M7-M7-M7-M7

The End

 _As always, thanks for all the feedback and encouragement. A few of you have wondered where I keep coming up with these notions that continue to get Ezra and the boys into all kinds of trouble. I can't say, but it does make me worry about my sanity at times. But as long as we are all having fun - who cares!_


End file.
